The Settling of Scores (come hell or high water)
by civis caeli
Summary: Separate oneshots from various perspectives, including Sally Ann/Hasil. This is not fluff. All oneshots are AU plot guesses based on episode previews, and were posted before their respective episodes were shown. Covers S01E08/09 so far.
1. Season 1, Episode 8

**SALLY ANN**

When Hasil unsheathed his knife, she fled.

Sally Ann paused when she exited the house and had made her way to the street. She had to choose, both internally _and_ externally. To whom of the two would her heart direct her towards on that night – James or Hasil?

Her brother was all she had, and he had taken care of her through thick and thin. But since he'd lost his steady job and taken up drinking, he was no longer the brother she'd once known – that imposter had hurt her, frightened her, threatened her…

And he'd threatened to hurt Hasil, too.

 _But those are only names now,_ Sally Ann thought as her feet hit the pavement. She was running again now, cutting through side streets towards the only destination she knew Hasil didn't know the way to. And the fact that she'd chosen to hide herself away from _him_ instead of her brother, told her all that she needed to know and then some.

The choice to disappear stung deeply, feeling like salt mercilessly ground within the gouge of a gaping wound. But it was a necessary evil and one which she would endure as her penance.

She'd chosen sides against her own.

And although, for the moment, she'd no longer recognized either man in that house,  
…what frightened her most was the fact that she no longer recognized herself, either.

* * *

 **HASIL**

"SALLY ANN? ….SALLY ANN?!" Hasil yelled as he exited the house, hopping down the front steps. He looked around in the street, trying to find even the smallest hint of what path she'd taken.

"Sally Ann?" he called again, circling in the street. Nothin'. She'd literally vanished, and it amazed him how quickly she'd done so. He could have sworn she'd been in the house just a minute before.

He wiped away the blood from his nose, biting his lip in pain before shaking his head and blinking to clear his eyesight. He'd taken his share of hits on the mountain when roughhousing with the other guys, but he could barely remember the last time he'd been in a serious, 1-on-1 fight. He'd had to protect himself a couple of times when out on runs with Big Foster and the others, sure, but that mainly consisted of knife work, be it just showing the knife as a threat or, on the seldom occasion, actually having to use it.

He hated the fact that he wanted to give James his due respect for lasting as long as he did… even if he _had_ eventually left him unconscious on the floor of the house. He hadn't meant to hit him that hard, but the sound of Sally Ann being hurt was unacceptable and _someone_ had to pay for that. Based on Sally Ann's reaction to him that morning and the way she'd stormed off from the laundromat, it didn't seem like James had ever been forced to dish out his fair share of payment.

Hasil was determined to change that; to tilt the scales in his and Sally Ann's favor.

In that respect, he'd become a rich man but he was still alone, and he hadn't been able to find her yet. Searching through side streets, he continued to call for her, but the search there was fruitless. He was out of his element and she knew those streets much better than he did – if she didn't want to be found, she wouldn't be.

He tried again, however, going to the few places he could think of left – back by the laundromat, for one, which was dark and empty now, having closed early for Sunday. Next were the retail store and gas station, where Sally Ann worked. Both were open for the time being, but he couldn't see her, no matter how long he searched the windows. He would have entered each, to search, asking if anyone had heard from her, but he feared that'd only make things worse. So he went to the little house in the woods, where they'd shared their last few tender moments together.

The windows were dark again, but that was to be expected. He made his way around the house's perimeter first, whispering her name, and met with silence, opened the side window to hop in. He did so as quietly as possible, searching the rooms of the house, one by one.

She was nowhere to be found.

"Sally Ann…." he whispered, his voice quivering with disappointment. He wasn't used to this. To _not_ being able to find her. Usually, he'd had little trouble triangulating in on her position, regardless of where she was in town during the day. All it took was a feeling and a look in the right direction – good fortune he attributed more to the heavens than his hunting skills. He'd been tethered to her, heart to heart, since they'd first met, for a reason, and the subsequent growth of these supernatural "tuggings" always seemed to play an important part in bringing him closer to her.

But he couldn't feel anything but a dull ache now, coupled with emptiness. It was almost as if someone had yanked and broken the cord that tied them together, leaving damage at both ends and severing the connection. An uneasy anxiety began to swell in his stomach, making him feel unwell, and Hasil's tormented mind prayed this separation wasn't permanent.

Going back out through the window, Hasil tried to call Sally Ann once more but found his attempt as futile as the others. Breath short, he swallowed, not wanting to leave this town just yet, but fearing the consequences of not doing so. His kin would be looking for him tonight and he was not yet ready for the conversation that could get him banished from the mountain all together. Not when so unsure of Sally Ann's feelings toward him.

Feeling the silent sting of tears begin at the back of his eyes, he dug his nails into his palms, walking slowly from Blackburg toward the mountain.

 _I'll find you, Sally Ann,_ he whispered with careful steps, made weak by fear.

 _I promise._

* * *

 **NAOMI**

The knock at the door roused Naomi from her nap, and she moaned softly, blinking her eyes. The knock, coming again, was more insistent this time, so she rose and stretched, looking for her keys quickly before heading for the door, eventually turning the handle.

At the door was Sally Ann. She was breathless, with puffy, red eyes, the streaks of dried tears clearly present on her cheeks.

"Wh-…what in the world. What happened?" Naomi's hands found her shoulder, inviting her in gently. She looked behind her, scanning the view outside the door before closing it and locking it tight.

"um…" Sally Ann started, stuttering. "I… I'm so sorry to show up like this, Nomes. I just… things aren't going too well at home, and… I was hoping we might be able to hang out or… have a girl's night or somethin'?"

Naomi frowned. The last few words had come out sounding strangled and forced from her throat. She could already see tears welling up in Sally Ann's eyes again. Taking her in her arms, she hugged her tightly, trying to calm her down.

"'Course you can," she answered softly. "You know m'door's always open. Go 'head and have a seat. I'll make ya some tea."

Sally Ann sat on the couch, her arms hugging around herself as her shoulders rocked. "Thanks Naomi," she sniffled.

Naomi nodded from the kitchen, putting a kettle on and finding one of her more calming choices for tea. Chamomile would have to do tonight, and would hopefully pack a punch, as it looked like she had some work on her hands. It wasn't long ago that James had called her, asking about his sister's whereabouts. Naomi covered for her at the time, choosing her words carefully.

 _"…Oh yeah," she had said soothingly, pretending to need time to recall the memory. "I remember seeing her. Locked my keys in the car and she stayed with me 'til the locksmith came..."_

Sally Ann and Naomi both knew none of that was true, but Naomi had been happy to provide the alibi for her. She'd been watching Sally Ann, who'd worked hard to hide her occasional bruising, but she couldn't be perfectly thorough every time, and Naomi had been around the family for so many years that she could easily spot the slight winces of pain that Sally Ann would express, and even now, expressed, while sitting here on her couch. Naomi, worried that bringing them up would push Sally Ann away, mostly kept her silence, but always meant to, some time later, sit down and speak with her about it.

 _I guess later is now_ , she thought. And no better time than the present.

"So," she said, looking through her cabinets for sugar and honey. Not wanting Sally Ann to clam up and shut her out, Naomi kept her voice soft and soothing. "What brings ya over tonight? What's goin' on at that house that has ya so spooked?"

Sally Ann was quiet, her eyes rising to follow Naomi's movements around the kitchen. "Got inna bit of trouble with James."

"…'bout Hasil?"

Sally Ann nodded. Naomi hadn't known about Hasil at first, but could tell, from the look on Sally Ann's face that something about her had changed after that first night in the woods with him. She'd come around the register that next day at work, asking with a knowing grin:

 _"Whatcha been up tooo…?" she'd smiled, wiggling her eyebrows at Sally Ann. The action had made Sally Ann burst into giggles and hiding away at lunch that day, she'd spilled the beans, exposing her soul to Naomi and filling her in on the days between then and the night she'd first met Hasil._

 _"What a day for me to be off, huh?" pouted Naomi, fanning herself dramatically. "Why can't dangerous, hot, burly… strong, dark and handsome men show up like that when_ I _work that register?"_

 _Sally Ann's eyebrow rose. "You sound like a Harlequin novel, girl. 'Dangerous, hot and burly'?"_

 _"Yeah!" Naomi spouted, her hands moving to emphasize what she thought was obvious. "Hello! Mountain men… survivin' the wild, protectin' their women…" Her hands wiggled around as she shivered. "Just …yum."_

 _"But Nooooomes," Sally Ann howled softly, scrunching up her nose in mock horror. "What about James?"_

 _"What 'bout 'im?"_

 _"Y'know he still loves you."_

 _"And I, him. But, you know how likely things are at the moment, too. Ya gotta cut me some slack here." She gave a cheeky grin. "I'm single and a girl can dream can't she?"_

 _Sally Ann rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "'long as it ain't 'bout my man."_

 _She examined her then, giving Naomi the eye before the two released another round of giggles._

 _"Well tell me about this mysterious man of yours, then."_

 _"Hasil's just… he's so special, Nomes." Sally Ann grew quiet, looking down. She could feel her cheeks warm at the thought of him. "Ain't never felt this way about someone before. I always thought it was all so sappy and… corny, th'way they describe stuff in the movies, ya know? Love at first sight, they say. Time and space fall away, they say. But… if I had known… It's nothin' like that at all." Sally Ann shook her head, blinking. Looking up a second later, she sighed, her face easing into a lovesick grin. "It's just…_ so _much better than all that. Indescribably."_

 _Naomi looked at her with a knowing, but silent smile. She nodded, taking Sally Ann's hand, and with a reassuring squeeze, she gave her approval. "Well… I know the peanut gallery here likes to get all high and mighty 'bout everyone else's business 'cept their own, but I don't care 'bout anyone else's opinion in this ghost town._ I _say go for it."_

 _Her hand rose to point at Sally Ann's rounded cheeks. "I 'member that look from seein' it in my own mirror. I 'member that feelin'… discoverin' how curious time was, that it could stop existin' justa make room so that all the moments we were together could adjust to extend into forever. The moment you feel it the first time, you don't wanna go without it too long. Cuz it don't come by very often or with very many, do it?"_

 _Sally Ann watched her, knowing she was talking about her time with James. In her opinion, the two had made the cutest of couples. She'd hoped for great things for them and further hoped that they'd be able to survive and surpass the negative precedent her and James' parents had set, so it'd hurt her as much as it had hurt James to hear that they'd broken off their engagement. Sally Ann feared the thought of similar happening for her and Hasil._

 _But returning Naomi's squeeze, she pushed past that, and smiled, shaking her head in response.  
Her mind made note for the future - she'd have to bring Hasil to meet Naomi one of these days._

Coming back to the present, she looked at Naomi, who, though going through the motions in the kitchen, was still waiting for her to answer. Naomi glanced at her, her eyes patient. She didn't push her, picking up on the fact that there was a lot for Sally Ann to process.

"I… told Hasil I couldn't see him anymore," Sally Ann groaned sadly. "Called him all manner of sordid name today."

"Why'd ya do that?" Reaching over, Naomi handed her a mug of tea. Sally Ann nodded in thanks.

"James," Sally Ann responded simply, taking the tea to her lips.

"…did what?"

"Said I better not be hanging out with him."

"And ya listened?"

"'course."

Naomi mulled over her words, taking her own sip. "That the day he called, asking where you'd been?"

"Yeah… and every day since," she breathed softly. "Thank you, again, for covering for me."

"Anytime. Figured it must've been for somethin' important, anyway," Naomi said. She hated the idea of lying to James, but it'd only been her first time doing so, and regardless, she felt that someone Sally Ann's age didn't deserve to have their location tracked so closely, especially in a town so small. She silently wondered if, at this rate, James had put a GPS tracker on her phone yet. "How'd Hasil take the news?"

"He told me I didn't mean what I'd said to 'im… 'bout staying away from each other, and what I'd called 'im."

"Did you?"

Sally Ann pursed her lips in thought before shaking her head slowly.

Sitting down across from her, Naomi leaned forward, elbows on her knees. She watched Sally Ann's free hand shift, moving to her arm as she made herself smaller in the chair, clutching her mug. "Did he hurt you?" she asked, eyes rising to read hers.

"A bit," Sally Ann said reluctantly.

"James, right? Not Hasil?"

Sally Ann's eyes flashed with surprise as she shook her head in the negative. "Hasil wouldn't do that. Put a real bad hurtin' on James, but he never touched me."

Naomi frowned, looking away. She still had a soft spot in her heart for James, and wanted nothing more than to see him recover from the ailments he'd come to endure after being hit so hard financially. With the job loss in tow, he'd been on unemployment, but with the rise in prices, the fractured income didn't cover anywhere near what he needed it to. Such was the reason for Sally Ann staying home and getting a job instead of going off to college as she'd originally planned.

"Hasil and James were fighting, then?"

"It was so much more than that. I think he heard James..." Sally Ann said, a look pain crossing her face. Her hand grazed against the bruise on her arm, now covered with the sleeve of her jacket. "...well... yellin' at me. And he kicked in the door an' started in on 'im. I tried to call Hasil... t'get 'im to hear me and stop, but he just... kept on. I was terrified my presence was only fuelin' his rage and that he'd eventually kill James, so I ran and hid in the garage beneath the house til I heard him leave. Went in and tried t'patch up what I could of the damage. I stopped what bleedin' there was and James, though knocked out, was breathin' fine by the time I left, but… I couldn't bring m'self to stay. I was too afraid."

Naomi nodded, and rose, going into her bedroom. Sally Ann's eyes followed her, confused, until she reappeared, phone to her ear. Her finger pressed against her lips, telling Sally Ann to stay quiet.

 _Hey James, it's Naomi. Meant to call earlier t'let you know me an' Sally Ann had plans. She's 'sposed to be headin' over here t'nite, but I can't reach her on her phone. Just wanted to let her know I'm headin' to the store and'll be back in a few. Let her know fer me please, if she's still with you. I'll try her cell again in th'meantime. 'Ppreciate it._

Ending the call, Naomi returned to her seat, picking up her mug to drink again. Her eyes rose to Sally Ann's. "…Just in case."

"Thank you..." Sally Ann offered, stunned to near silence.

Naomi nodding slightly. "James still goes to that coal place weekdays?"

"He does, yeah. Been tryin' to find a job there but they keep turnin' workers away. Still shows up daily though."

"Good. I'll pay 'im a visit in the mornin' before I come in at noon, an' make sure he's alright. If he ain't 'round, I'll check there, see if he got work for the day." Naomi emptied her pocket, revealing her keys with a smile. "Still got my key."

Sally Ann laughed, finishing her tea. "That'll come in handy."

"Hopefully. What time's your shift in the morning, again? I'll drive you up on the way to the house."

"Workin' extra tomorrow, so I gotta be there at nine. James usually gets up 'round eight-thirty."

"Eight-thirty, it is. I have your spare uniform in the closet for you, by the way." Naomi rose, beckoning for her mug with a smile before putting them both in the sink. Turning, she checked the clock on the microwave. "It's gettin' late… wanna turn in?"

"Can we just… talk for a while longer?" Sally Ann asked instead. "Or watch a movie or something? Gotta get my mind off things."

Naomi smiled, heading to the bedroom to get her laptop and begin hooking it up to the main room's tv. She made popcorn and let Sally Ann choose the movie from her streaming service. It was an oldie but a goodie and one that made them both laugh and cry, with a little of both in between. When it ended, they sat on the chair, Naomi prompting her with questions before listening to her talk.

Sally Ann treasured these moments, feeling more than ever, that she'd finally found the big sister she'd always hoped for. She revealed the struggles between her and James and how increasingly hostile he'd grown, showing, she mentioned, strong correlation with his increased tendency and desire for alcohol. Naomi had nodded through it all, aware of some of those issues as she'd experienced them herself.

She'd been there before the fall from grace happened; even before their mother had left, back when things were good and the four were very much a happy family. She'd been there and she understood. But above all, she'd kept her promise to Sally Ann. After their mother abandoned them, she'd been there to console James, and promised that she'd be both his wife and Sally Ann's sister. The first promise had had trouble coming into fruition, but it meant a lot to Sally Ann that she continued to try as hard as she did to keep the second one, even after severing most ties with her brother.

As for that first promise, maybe this was all that was needed. Maybe telling someone else what was happening with James was the answer they were looking for. Maybe they… one day, would get back to that happy space in time, and things would return to normal.

By the time they'd finished talking for the night, a pleasant atmosphere had descended, leaving them both contented. It wasn't normal, but for now, it would do.

Sally Ann searched through the set of spare clothes she'd left at Naomi's and changed into her pajamas. When they made it to bed for the night, Sally Ann settled in against the comforting hold of the mattress, listening to Naomi's breath become soft as she fell asleep a short while later.

Blinking into the darkness, she found herself unable to rest yet, however, and she soon understood why after thinking through the day's events backwards and forwards multiple times. Sally Ann realized that James would call at some point, wondering if Sally Ann ever made it to Naomi's, so reaching for her phone, she opened her "Messages" and typed out the few words she could manage.

That was it, she thought. That was what she'd almost forgotten to do.  
And upon pressing "Send," she felt the fatigue hit her shoulders first.

She sighed softly, turning over and hoping again, that her brother was okay. Tomorrow, she'd find out, but for now, she focused on the comfort of Hasil's voice, and the pleasant butterflies she'd feel whenever he said her name, before closing her eyes and drifting into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

 **JAMES**

It was a very long time before James came to that night. Eyes open, he groaned, feeling like he could easily cough up blood. He tried to do so, and winced, curling over to cradle what he imagined were bruised ribs… and bruised everything else, for that matter. Swallowing dryly, he crawled until he could make his way to the side table and rise completely.

Moving slowly, he reached for a nearby beer bottle, and turned, dragging its bottom against the edge of the table with a thud. In his bedroom, he found the nearest bottle of pain meds, downed the recommended dosage, and got into bed, continuing to self-medicate and nurse away his pain with alcohol until the edges of his wounds began to numb.

With a look out the windows, he found that night had fallen, so he called for Sally Ann, needing to see her face and make sure she was okay.

"Baby girl?" he released, voice raspy. He considered checking her room, but closed his eyes instead, leaning his head back against his pillows. He needed a moment. Just one, at least, to recuperate.

 _Maybe she left and never came back_ , he thought, but dwelling on that idea made the emotional pain flood through the Band-Aid of his liquid medication. He already knew how unlikely it'd be that Sally Ann would answer if he called her, especially this time of night, considering how early some of her work shifts were. So his mind shifted gears and he thought of Naomi – if Sally Ann wasn't home, maybe she'd gone there again.

He worked hard to remember his last conversation with her:

 _"When was this again?" Naomi had asked._

 _"Not long ago. She came home late…. 'round 7 or so. Said she'd been at your house."_

 _"Oh yeah," she began. "I remember, now. Locked my keys in the car that day and she stayed with me 'til the locksmith came. You know how long it takes for 'em to get here from Winchester. I invited her over for dinner to thank her."_

 _"Mm…" he answered, flatly. He couldn't argue with that explanation, knowing well how close she and Sally Ann were. He also knew that questioning the validity of the claim would insinuate that he thought her a liar, and despite his feelings at the moment, he couldn't stand the idea of Naomi thinking that about him as he'd been the one to leave the door open for the chance to renew their relationship in the first place, and there'd never be an expiration set for that offer. "Thanks for the help, Naomi."_

 _"What's going on with you, James? You alright?" came Naomi's question, quiet against his ear. James inhaled silently, closing his eyes and pressing his face into the phone. The two had been together for years, since high school, and were engaged to be married before their break-up two years ago. He missed her terribly, but he'd made a promise to himself never to tell her so as long as they were apart, and he'd not be breaking his silence on the matter now._

 _"Nothing," he exhaled, eyes opening. "Same old, same old. You?"_

 _"Ya sure? You sound a bit agitated."_

 _"Just the stuff with work," James sighed. "These good f'nothin' Farrells ain't making life any easier, either. Heard from Pastor King that he thought he'd seen Sally Ann walking with one of 'em, and just wanted to check."_

 _"And if she was?"_

 _"For her sake, she better not have been."_

 _"Don't you think you're gettin' awfully worked up over something someone_ thought _they saw? 'specially someone like Pastor King?" James couldn't see it, but a frown had crossed Naomi's face, affecting her tone as she answered. James, having known her long enough to know many of her vocal tells, picked up on it, but couldn't understand why she'd not reacted to the news as he had. Her lack of much-warranted disgust angered him._

 _"You tellin' me you wouldn't do the same were you in my shoes?" asked James, his tone a defensive sneer. "We're talking Farrells here. Jeeze, Naomi, who the hell do you think I am? It's like you don't even know me."_

 _"Hey! Now hold your horses… you know full well that I know a good deal more about you than anyone else does, both good_ and _bad," she'd protested with a growl._

 _James was furious then. Naomi softening up to the likes of the Farrells? Had he not known her better, he'd have thought she was dating one of the mongrels herself._

 _"Like that has anything to do with anything."_

 _"I'm just saying she deserves the benefit of the doubt, James. Pastor King's gettin' old and his eyes haven't been the greatest for a while now. You know that, well as I do, and it'd be in_ your _best interest to knock it off and let off some steam 'fore you run away the only good person left in your life who's willing t'put up with your crap."_

 _That stung. And because she'd been so willing to hurt him, he did so in return._

 _"Yeah," he bit back cruelly. "Well, which one of them Ferrell's been helping you let off_ yours _?"_

Naomi's response had been a dial tone.

And understandably so, he knew. Burning that bridge wasn't something he wanted or needed, either, so he accepted the fact that he'd have to find a way to apologize and make things up to her. And soon, if he expected her to answer the next call he might have to make to her tomorrow.

James thought through the ways he could do so short notice, checking his cell phone for the time. To his surprise, however, there were already two messages waiting for him. He listened to Naomi's first, before finding that Sally Ann had texted, confirming his initial suspicions.

 _I'm at Naomi's again,_ the message read. _I'll be back tomorrow. I'm sorry._

Looking up from the screen, James focused on his breathing. _No need to check her room then,_ he thought, his jaw ticking and molding beneath his skin.

He put the phone on the nightstand, stretching slightly until the pain made him stop. Vexed by his immobility, he shook his head, fighting to push down the boil of upset that came with the memory of being beaten to a pulp in his own house a number of hours earlier.

James gulped down the last dregs of alcohol from the bottle on his nightstand, and, in a fit of irritation, threw the empty glass out the doorway of his bedroom. He heard it shatter into pieces against the wall, before reaching over to turn off his bedroom lamp.

He'd deal with that later.

* * *

After a few hours, James heard his alarm buzz. His eyes opened again, already dry from a lack of sleep, and he rose, getting dressed, not bothering to shower. The thump in his head made him pocket the bottle of meds along with his phone before he left the room and took his keys from the kitchen counter.

Shoes echoing with the grating crunch of broken glass behind him, he left the house.

When he'd arrived at _One Planet_ that morning, he was the first one in line.

It was a change from his usual of joining the group of guys he'd come to develop a sense of camaraderie with. They'd seen each other almost every work day since everyone had lost their jobs, and the fact that they could each understand the agony of being unable to completely provide for their families had come to hold many of them together like glue.

James, however, didn't want to see them. Not right now, at least, feeling as under the weather as he did. He was grateful when Haylie Grimes arrived, announcing to him and a few other early birds that the new equipment had been delivered to replace the ones the Ferrells had destroyed.

"Good news, all," she smiled. "We have eight whole hours of work for everyone looking to do it!"

Walking up to her, he reached out his hand, not bothering to hold her gaze for too long. Her eyes surveyed his appearance, and to his pleasure, the sight of his sorry state of disrepair made her usual smile, both insincere and slimy, drop from her face. Her mouth opened, but before she could ask, James took his voucher with a light, "Thank you, ma'am" and left.

Time passed quickly for him, and he found himself becoming increasingly grateful for the work. It kept him busy and had him using muscles sorely needing use after growing stiff and inflamed during the night. Best yet, though, it kept his mind off of Sally Ann, making him dread the fact that the work day had gone so soon.

Making his way back to _One Planet_ Headquarters to turn in his voucher, he hoped to get in and out quickly without being seen by his friends. Sadly, however, he had no such luck, as sat on the bench near the door was Jake Murphy and a number of other men, waiting to receive clearance and pay for their day. Cap turned backwards on his head, he was resting, waiting for the doors to open. When he heard James' footsteps, he cracked open his eyes.

"Ooo-wee," he whistled. "What the holy hell happened to you, Jay?" His voice a state of confused awe. A couple of the guys nearby looked up at his words, staring curiously.

James sighed, rolling his head around on his neck slowly. He needed to decide just how much of the story he'd tell, and in the end, settled on revealing almost everything.

"Had a run in with one of those damn Farrell kids. Been sniffin' 'round my sister."

"Sally Ann?" Jake asked, taken aback.

"Th'one an' only."

"Wow. Hadn't pegged her for one who'd run with a crowd like that."

"She's not," muttered James. "'least she won't be if _I_ have anything to do with it."

Jake nodded at this, thinking it over. "Sounds like you needta keep that one on a short leash."

James' ears twitched at the analogy. Gazing over at Jake, he could tell he'd already moved onto his next thought, none the wiser about the fact that he'd compared his sister to an animal. For all of the strife between the two, he loved his sister through and through. He didn't mean to do the things he did to her and to frighten her so, but at this point, it was hard to help it. It's almost as if the persona had become a second skin. A part of him he didn't know existed until the throes of depression had lain hands on him, becoming one with him against his will. It became worse with the alcohol, but he didn't know how to let go of that, either. The only thing he'd been left knowing was that he loved his sister and being over-protective of her was one of the most natural ways he knew to show it. This would include protecting her honor, reputation and name.

James bit the inside of his cheek hard, and sighed, knowing this wasn't the place or the time to get into the issue, but certainly not planning to forget it. Keeping appearances instead, he answered with a gruff, "I intend to do so."

"Where was she when _that_ happened," Jake asked, pointing to his own face to refer to the damage done to James'.

"She left. Hasn't been home since."

"Ouch," he began, but at that moment, the door to the mobile unit opened and out stepped Breece Dobbs. Uniform on, he didn't have a speck of dirt on him. _Such must be the benefits of a cushy desk job_ , James thought, wanting to chuckle. Breece nodded to the two of them, walking up to say hello, but he didn't manage to do so before being drawn to James.

"Gee Whiz," breathed Breece, coming close to examine his face, which, James assumed, resembled quite the crime scene photo. "Looks like someone up an' played baseball withcho face, man."

"An' feels like it, too," he murmured with a smirk.

"What happened?"

"The Farrell reign of terror has widened," Jake filled in. "Now one of 'em's done attacked Jay in an effort to win his dear ol' sister's heart."

"Or corrupt it," James said, correcting him.

"Same thing, ay?" Breece answered with a grin.

James nodded. "Pretty much." He nudged Breece's shoulder, changing the subject. "Hey fancy man, how's it hanging in that big, ol' office of yours, Mr. "Commune-itee Lee-aysownnnne Officer"?" The air quotes he'd made with his hand around the job title made Breece a little queasy. Enduring the cat calls on his way into work every day had been taking a toll on him.

"Hey, now you stop it. It's an okay job."

"Mmhm," teased James, poking Breece in the side this time. "More like a comfy job."

"Yeah," joined Jake. "You gettin' soft on us, Breece? Ya lookin' awfully fluffy lately, since ya'stopped doin' real man's work."

Breece gave a thin smile, shaking his head. "Naw, guys, you know me better than that."

"Or at least we _thought_ we did," James contributed.

"Ya do," said Breece, giving them a level look and a nod. "Ain't nothin' changed. The job ain't no big deal. An' to tell ya th'truth, I look forward to getting out in the field again. Gets awfully stuffy in there."

"Ya wanna unwind tonight then?" Jake asked, rising out of his seat to stretch.

"How so?"

"Eh, you know… the usual." Jake grinned at him, the local bar coming to mind. "Nothin' too reckless, tomorrow bein' a work day an' all."

Breece thought it over. He didn't want to go home right now anyway; certainly not after having had to endure the latest of heated discussions with his wife, Ledda. He loved the woman more than life itself, but even he couldn't deal with her pessimism at times. The long overdue break was a welcome one.

"Sure," he answered. "When ya wanna go?"

Jake looked up, watching the colors of sunset slowly begin to take shape in the sky. "Gotta turn in my ticket, but right now's fine."

"No problem. We can take the truck. Been meanin' to show it to you guys."

Breece took both of their documents in to get cleared and when done, led them to through the parking lot.

* * *

Their time at the bar passed swimmingly, and all three men were happy to note how much it felt like old times again. They reminisced about better days, when jobs were plentiful and income adequate, making toasts for hopes of good future fortune. They'd clapped Breece on the back, giving him sincere congratulations on the job, and continued on, catching up on the changes that had taken place in each other's lives.

When the conversation made its way back to James' face, he was too drunk to care.

"So… fill me in again, James. What exactly happened t'ya face?"

"Guy named Hasil came at me. Blind-sided me right through the door."

"Good grief," whispered Breece. "With the way they look, an' all, I sometimes wonder if they're all half bear."

"If only," James answered, wistful. "It's legal to hunt bear."

This brought out dirty chuckles from the three of them until, calming down, Jake asked of James, "Ya went lookin' for her yet? Or want to, at least? We could make a night's end of it."

All three knew to whom he was referring.

"Naw, she was at Naomi's last I checked. Texted and said she'd be home after work."

"…or not," Breece answered. "What'll she do after work, _before_ she gets home?"

This thought pushed its way through James' mind slowly, prodding at him like a hot poker. He hadn't considered that, he thought with a frown. Worry prickled at his limbs now.

"…On second thought. Yeah… yeah, let's do that." James rose off the stool, leaving the pay for his bill on the bar. He looked at his watch, humming. "She should be at work now. Front register, so if we drive past, we should see her easy."

"Ooh, can I drive?" Jake asked. "Just past the store and back to _One Planet_ is all. Jus'… been a while since I been in a new car…"

Breece shrugged. They were all intoxicated anyway and with there being so few cars on the road and the distance so small that they'd arrive in a handful of minutes, he didn't feel a need to hold back. He tossed him the keys.

"Sure, go for it."

They made their way to the car, James in middle with Jake in the driver's seat. Breece got into the passenger's side while Jake played around with buttons near the dash. Lights were popping on, causing James to look down at which settings he'd manipulated.

"Heated seats? Ohh la la..." jeered Jake with a laugh.

"You're just jealous mine _has_ seats," Breece hit back, his spirits high despite the verbal lashing he'd been receiving.

"Ohhh, low blow, man. Low blow!" Jake laughed harder, before settling down to put on his seat belt.

"Looks like we're ridin' high t'night" James said, crooning as his words slurred just slightly. He put on his own seat belt before taking a breath and sitting back. "I'm gonna hafta sober up a bit before talkin' 'bout driving home. You too, Jake."

Jake groaned, waving his hand. "Town's small. We'll make it home before we notice. Don't worry 'bout it."

He started the car, traveling slowly. The town of Blackburg was a small one, and as many towns of similar type were wont to sometimes do, it and its residents closed things down early, heading home shortly after work so that there wasn't much of a night life to look forward to. From what he'd heard, the majority of the town's teens chose to party at home, so there were few of them to be seen past nightfall, as well.

The only people left over were usually barflies, and he was grateful that he was one of them for the night, traversing Blackburg's nearly empty streets. From his position in the truck, he felt taller than he'd been in a while and it made him drive carefully. He wasn't _drunk_ drunk, and nowhere near knackered, but still…

He made his way down side streets, tracing the same paths he'd walked as a kid. Slowing down, he paused to let someone walk across the street, and watched as the guy's hand rose in thanks as he trotted over to the left, nearing the sidewalk.

"Hey… Hey, that's him!" James whispered, peering close to the windshield.

"What you talkin' bout?" Breece asked. Jake listened, letting the car sit still until he answered.

"That's the Ferrell kid…. th'one that tried t'make ground beef outta ma face. Th'good for nothin'…" James continued, a slew of curse words and profane labeling slipping past his lips.

Breece raised an amused eyebrow and eyed James with a laugh.

"Well, dang, James..." Jake egged on. "Tell 'im how you REALLY feel!"

"Would love to," James replied, eyes still following Hasil down the street. Jake looked at him and as he sat there, he began to resemble a hunter, lying in wait for the perfect moment to strike and nail his prize catch of the day.

It was an accurate description for James, as well, as the anticipation was already making itself known inside of him. This was his second chance to get retribution, and he found himself teetering closer to the desire to get out of the car and beat Hasil down right then and there, holding his face down until he drowned in a puddle of his own blood. His fingers began to flex.

Jake reached below the seat, hands looking for the item he'd left in the car before heading into the bar that night. Fingers sliding against it, he picked it up, arm rising to reveal his gun. A grin began to slither over his face. "Well you're in luck, tonight, Jay," he smirked, taking a quick look at it to check for bullets. Looking over with a wink, he continued. "How'sa 'bout we start by puttin' the fear a'God into this one?"

James' eyes slid over to the gun, the corner of his lips tugging into a smile. He glanced over at Breece. "Breece?"

Breece, eyes also on the gun, took a moment to evaluate the situation. What'd be the harm in scaring the guy a little? The idea of doing so in his company car left him a little uneasy but honestly, what'd he have to lose? _Not like Farrells can read license plates,_ he thought with a laugh, noting well the fact that he, too, had grown a strong dislike for the group. "Fine… but nothin' we'll regret in the mornin', okay?"

"No problemo," Jake cooed, eyeing the gun again before handing it to James. "We gon' get ourselves a Farrell!"

Only a minute or two had passed since Hasil had crossed the street and it'd be a little ways before they'd reach the main street of stores anyway, so Jake let the car coast forward a bit, driving up to him slowly.

"Hey Farrell!" called Jake, lowering the driver's side window. "Got a bone t'pick with you."

Hasil slowed to a stop, looking up as his hand moved reflexively to his side. His fingers wrapped around the handle of his blade. Turning, he could only see Jake in the window, so he looked a bit closer, trying to see if he could place his face with a memory.

"'Fraid I ain't seen you before, sir. Pretty sure I ain't done nothin' to cross ya, either."

"Your bein' here _alive_ is enough to make me cross," Jake laughed, causing Hasil to lick his lips in irritation. He slowly began to pull the knife from his side.

"Listen, I ain't tryin' to make no trouble…" he started, before seeing two shadows move beside the man. Narrowing his eyes, he looked at them, and back at the driver as one of the shadows began to speak. The speaker pressed a button on the ceiling until light began to flood the space.

And _this_ man, Hasil _did_ recognize. He swallowed, the blood draining from his face.

"'member me? You ain't seen my friend before, but… surely, you've seen _me_ , right?" James asked, his voice a low, intimidating rumble. "Ya'see, you warned me never to touch her again. Didn't say nothin' 'bout _you_ , though. So, I just wanted to thank ya for slowing down a bit this time…" He handed Jake the gun and nodded to him before looking back out the window at Hasil. Jake held up the pistol for him, aiming it at Hasil. "…and makin' it that much easier t'kill you."

At the sight of the gun, Hasil froze, eyes wide. His hand slowly rose as James smiled, leering at him. "Oh no, I'm afraid that won't be working _this_ time." James chucked darkly, reaching up to click off the ceiling light before sitting back into the darkness.

"Too late, boy. Already got plans to have you stuffed, now."

Those were the last words Hasil heard before the pistol went off, releasing a deafening crack.

* * *

 **HASIL**

Hasil was gone at the word "stuffed" and he'd made it just in the nick of time, too.

He knew that he should have been gone at the sight of the gun instead, but he'd found himself too frozen to move. Most shocking to him wasn't the idea of dying. After the years he spent on the mountain, he had no fear of that. He could handle _that_.

But, he couldn't handle the thought of never seeing Sally Ann again.

And it was _that_ thought that made him bolt.

Turning from the group in the truck, he'd made his way down the street, looking around as he continued running hard. His first instinct was to call for help but knowing how disliked the Farrells were in town to begin with, he assumed that anyone who heard him and managed to get a good look at the situation would probably do little to stop the chase, anyway; it wasn't an assumption he enjoyed having, but he couldn't help feeling that it was true. Thankfully, he'd soon be close enough to the one person in town who cared, for the response of others not to matter.

The store, he thought, upon recognizing the buildings ahead, should be along the street after the next turn right. He doubled his efforts, knowing his life depended on it. If he could just make it to the store where Sally Ann worked, he'd be fine. He'd be safe, preferably, within the circle of her arms, and he'd be inside a building with much more protection than the knife he had on him provided. He focused on getting there and seeing her face, imagining what he'd say as he begged her for forgiveness. She was the only thing left to keep him going.

Turning right, he noticed, from the sound of the truck's tires, that he'd managed to gain some distance from his pursuers. On the way down the street, he could hear that they'd started yelling at each other for whatever reason, before focusing their yelling at him, beginning to drive again. _Where you goin', boy?!"_ was the clearest of their calls as they persisted after him, followed by profane epithets that filtered out the car windows.

Hasil was blissfully ignorant of the majority of them, however, as the pounding of blood through his veins had since deafened out the noises, leaving his eyes to pay attention to the surrounding buildings and lights. As he did so now, he felt his heart jump into his throat.

The majority of the lights in the store had gone off.

Which meant that Sally Ann could have made it home already, and if so, he still had a long way to run before finding her again. Choking down a sob, he resigned himself to pushing past the pain of his burning lungs and muscles, and continued to run forward, his head down. _I'll make it back to you, Sally Ann_ , he chanted in repetition inside his head, hearing and seeing little more than that promise.

He'd make it to see her again, yes. Of this, he was certain.

He just hoped he'd not be near death by the time he did so.

* * *

 **SALLY ANN**

The lights were fading toward the front of the store when Sally Ann started packing up. She'd already taken care of balancing her register for the day and started toward the back to help with the last bit of cleaning. Naomi stopped her, her voice low.

"I'll close up for you, Sally Ann. Go 'head and get on home. Don't need to prolong it any longer than necessary, and I couldn't catch him this mornin', so he's probably in a good mood from workin'."

Naomi had already done so much for her, letting her stay over and driving her to work. Both were employed by the same two establishments now, carrying out part-time schedules at the local retail store, as well as the Mini Mart gas station nearby. After the incident with the Farrells at the store, Sally Ann thought it best to have a backup plan, in case she was penalized for her inaction during the robbery. Naomi, who'd already been working at the gas station, had put in a good word for her, helping her get the job. She couldn't have asked for a better sister, friend or coworker, and was grateful for her help and company. But, she hated the fact that she felt so distant from her now, preoccupied with thoughts of going back home to confront James.

"Yeah…." Sally Ann responded, her thoughts far away. She knew she had to, but she didn't want to go back. Not just yet. She didn't want to have to answer for her absence the night before, and she really didn't think she could stomach having to sit in the family room and talk to her brother while looking at his face and the handiwork Hasil had left behind. "I'll call you when I get there, then. T'let you know I made it home safe."

Naomi nodded. "Text me and let me know how it goes. I'll call James after for you… see if I can get him in his right mind, if necessary."

Sally Ann smiled, even though her jaw had already started to set, her back teeth grinding together. "Thanks, Naomi," she whispered. "For everything."

"Anytime, sweetie."

Sally Ann exited the store from the front, intending to take the route she usually did when without a car. On the rare occasions that she had to walk home at night, she always took the busiest and most visible streets.

She'd only just made it off the sidewalk when the sound of a loud crackling made her jump and look around. Having lived in Kentucky as long as she had, she could identify the sound as a gunshot, but the streets had been relatively empty. It didn't make sense for a sound like that to be so close by.

She backed away, moving closer to the store in hopes of avoiding whatever line of sight she could have been walking her way into, but before she could get far, a sudden gust of wind whipped past her. She stumbled back, startled, and turned her head to look at the figure running along the edge of the sidewalk and down the street.

"Hasil?" she whispered into the night.

Sally Ann could recognize the smell of ash, and fire, and wood emanating from the path the figure left behind, but for that fraction of a second, her mind couldn't reconcile the scent with what she'd experienced.

Enough to make her doubt herself, she couldn't fully tell who it was she'd seen. Something was unfamiliar. _No kilt?_ was her mind's first response, but she shook her head slightly at the absurdity of that being her first thought after seeing the scene unfold as she just had. Though she'd only ever seen Hasil in a kilt, and he was quite literally the only person she'd ever met to wear one, missing or no, just the fact that he was the first conclusion that, not just her mind, but her heart, had come to, was enough.

She could hear Naomi call to her, making her turn.

"W-…was that a gunshot I just heard?"

Sally Ann nodded towards her, her heart beginning to pound. "Tell Raj we're gonna need the police out here."

Naomi disappeared and Sally Ann could see her, arms in the air as she explained the issue to Raj. His hands were moving quickly, tapping buttons and bringing the store phone to his ear. Crouching low, Sally Ann peeked out around the shrubs of bushes lining the front parking lot of the store.

She could hear the expletives coasting loudly down the street to her. Accompanied by the rumble of tires she narrowed down one of the voices, picking up on familiar phrases she'd only ever heard from one person. Distraught, adrenaline overwhelmed her rational thoughts, flooding them out and laying them to waste as she stepped into the street.

"JAMES!" she cried with full force, and her voice reverberated, seemingly ricocheting off of concrete and gravel, bricks and glass windows, until it was louder than it was when it first left her.

That formidable voice pierced the silent night air with the precision of a sniper rifle, making the street shift from the single, lonesome sounds of profanity and Hasil's running footsteps, to the echo of Sally Ann's voice and the shrill screech of tires.

At the sight and sound of her, the car slowed quickly and stopped.

The figure behind Sally Ann did the same.

* * *

 **HASIL**

Hasil stopped at the voice behind him, and turned. He could see her tiny figure, dainty and small as she stood in the middle of the expanse of empty streets and buildings. Trying to catch his breath, he folded, leaning forward to put his hands on his knees before looking back up.

"Sally Ann?" came his whisper as he walked to her slowly, coming to stop at her right side. He was on the sidewalk now, feeling a mixture of curiosity, awe and relief flood through him. "Sally Ann… what are you doing?"

The car that was chasing after him had stopped a ways down the street, headlights focused on her. The effect created long shadows that rested behind her limbs, making her appear both smaller _and_ more frightening, all at once. The sound of her voice welcomed him to her, but the words were all wrong.

"I don't even want to know why you're down here, Hasil. I just want you to go home."

Hasil shook his head quickly in refusal. "I couldn't find you, Sally Ann. It's why I came t'see you tonight. I had t'make sure you were alright."

"I'm fine Hasil," Sally Ann said, eyes still level with the truck's headlights. "Stayed the night at a friend's and she drove me t'work this morning." She started walking forward.

"Where ya going?"

"That's my brother, Hasil. I _have_ to go."

"But..." he protested, stopping her.

* * *

 **SALLY ANN AND HASIL**

"C'mon Sally Ann… You can come home with me. I'd work out somethin' for ya. It'd be easy to leave now…"

"We weren't put here with the promise of easy decisions," Sally Ann decided, looking forward all the while, but speaking loud enough for Hasil to hear. "We have burdens to bear and sometimes we have to bite the bullet and take the good with the bad. Just go _home_ , Hasil..." Sally Ann pressed, her hand rising to pause his words and punctuate the seriousness of each of the words in her statement. "Please. Aren't you in enough trouble with the law as it is?"

Hasil's mouth set in a line as he looked from her to the truck ahead. He knew they could both hear the sirens now, coming closer. The lights would soon follow suit.

Hasil sighed, biting his lip as he gave her a long look. She continued, turning to whisper her reassurances in an effort to keep him quiet. She was right… and being locked in a cell would do nothing to help either of them. Not only would his family be livid, but it'd ruin his ability to see her as he wished.

"It'll be alright Hasil. Just… go home."

She glanced at him, trying to hold onto every detail of his face in her memory; she'd need to until they were able to see each other again. Hasil stood, staring at her. Her eyes spoke more than her lips did at that moment, and he could feel the connection between them grow again. Its healing was a painful process, causing his chest to ache where he stood, but the knowledge that that connection was still there was enough to make him move, albeit slowly.

He nodded at her words, and in his silence, she could already see he'd become bright-eyed, his slow swallows combining together with his glistening eyes to make evident the fact that he'd not be leaving her without shedding tears first.

But she knew, full well, that if she saw him do so, she'd rush into his arms and kiss his cheeks dry, folding like a paper doll into his embrace until they felt as one being and she'd molded into the curves of his body.

She gave her own thick swallow, and, troubled, lowered her eyes.

She'd leave _him_ instead.

By now, the police had made it to the pickup truck and uniformed officers were already out, flashlights peering through the windows at the passengers inside. James looked none too happy about the opposition and felt no shame about showing it, either. He glared at her through the windshield, looking as if he expected the glass to buckle and shatter beneath the weight of his fury. She'd seen that look before. He was daring her to go with Hasil. To choose him over her own blood...

But ignorant of the epiphany she'd had the day before, he was all together clueless of the fact that, for Sally Ann, it was her choice to _stay_ that embodied the further severing of her ties of loyalty to him.

Determined to face this head on, Sally Ann looked forward again and set her back until her spine felt as steel. Chin level, her hands rose in the air in time with her footsteps, and she walked slowly toward the police. "Go home, Hasil. It'll be alright. I'll see you soon." she prompted again, stern but soft, and this time not waiting for a reply. Hasil watched, knowing better than to attempt to give her one.

Sally Ann prayed that in time, both statements would ring true. That not only would she see Hasil again soon, but that this run-in with the police would be the catalyst needed for things between her and James to finally be good again. Or better, at least, as she would consider _any_ lesser amount of the destructive behavior she'd experienced for the past two years to be preferable, too.

Hasil began to back away slowly when her body started to glow, the colors blue, white and red, flashing against her. Now that the sirens had stopped, she could hear him breathing, his inhalations wet with what she could hear were sniffled tears. He took his time leaving her, and although his slow decline was visible from the corner of her eye, she didn't dare look at him again.

* * *

 **JAMES**

Having been removed from the truck, James' hands were now resting on its frame as the police checked through his pockets. Through it all, his gaze never left Sally Ann's as she came closer.

She stared back at him, face as emotionless and smooth as the surface of an undisturbed lake. James noted this, before swaying slightly. Alcohol heavy in his blood, the excitement of the night had done its job in quickening his descent into madness, but he found himself welcoming the familiar stupor that it'd bring.

He was vaguely aware of the cops now, who were taking out notepads and speaking to his friends. Beneath the haze, however, everyone's voices were muffled, sounding as if he'd descended not only into drunkenness, but to the very bottom of the ocean. When his balance threatened to shift again, he thought it an appropriate and perhaps poetic thing, that his feet felt as much like cement as they did. Perhaps he'd be better off down there. Or maybe he'd haunt the bottom of a well.

He smiled and chuckled to himself at the macabre thought, half dazed even as he came back to reality, and realized that what had felt like hours had only been a few seconds. Sally Ann, with her hands raised in submission, was still walking along the street towards the scene, and neither's eyes had left the other's. Appreciation uncoiled within his stomach then, as he saw her.

So she _hadn't_ chosen the Ferrell.

He'd expected her to turn on him and leave as she had yesterday, but since she hadn't… now what?

And why not?

There were too many questions he didn't have the answers to, leaving him wondering what her explanation for leaving him half-dead would be. Wondered if she'd actually been with the Ferrell boy before going to Naomi's, and if, despite all they'd been through together, she cared so little about him now that she'd been unwilling to bother coming back home to make sure he'd lived through the night. Maybe she'd stayed behind now to make _sure_ he ended up in the slammer and _remained_ there, so she'd be able to wallow around in Ferrell filth with wild abandon. That sounded like a Ferrell's doing to him, alright, and he knew within the very marrow of his bones, that the clan was at fault for playing a part in the poisoning of his sister's mind.

The question now was... is she friend or foe?

Appreciation gave way to angry suspicion, his eyes narrowing as he wished, with a snarl, that he'd finished the deed and killed that Farrell boy, if only to relieve the need to worry at all. _It'd have been worth it_ , his heart thumped maliciously. He'd pick this bone until it bleached clean, he decided. Then, and only then would the hatred he felt curl tightly and clench like a ball of serpents at the pit of his stomach, subside.

Still floating on waves of delirium that were heightening the sensitivity of his emotions, James felt the rise of a sudden wind send such an icy chill down his spine that he personified it, imagining that wind to be some mountain spirit, having come close to howl at him and blow a glacial gust of air, the likes of liquid nitrogen into his face; to freeze this moment in time like a photograph, and make it so that James would always be the loser of this war.

 _Always the face… can't hide the damage when it's done there_ , he thought, and followed up the mountain spirit's threat to his face with the aching desire to retaliate with a blow torch to Hasil's, as it was, James reasoned, Hasil's fault that he'd hurt Sally Ann, and by extension, also his fault that James was out here and in this predicament in the first place.

He could feel an officer pull him up to bring his arms behind his back then, and now upright and blinking, he watched Sally Ann finally arrive. After a long look at him, she spoke, watching the cold cuffs tug and dig abrasively into his wrists.

The sharp clarity of her tone sliced through his haze and to his surprise, he found it to be even colder than the spirit's.

"I think it's high time that you and I had a little talk, Brother."

* * *

 **A/N:** Let me just begin with a huge, ecstatic announcement about Outsiders being renewed for Season 2. Couldn't be happier about it. :)  
And as for this one shot, I hope it turned out okay and that you enjoyed it!

 **For context, if needed:** I get the feeling Jake and Zeke are in the car with James in the preview, but in this situation, I'm making it Jake and Breece. Also had a slight time jump between the first line of the story and the second; by the second line, Sally Ann's exiting the house, having already checked on James.

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the canon characters. Everything pre-owned belongs to its owner(s). No copyright infringement intended.**


	2. Season 1, Episode 9a

**A/N:** Thank you all for the follows, favs and reviews! They really helped while writing this update. Since there was no Sally Ann last episode either, but the preview for E09 was pretty compelling, I decided to continue this. It's still a oneshot, but split into three pieces, so expect a few more updates to this, soon.

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the canon characters. Everything pre-owned belongs to its owner(s). No copyright infringement intended.**

* * *

 **JAMES**

James found it disorienting to remain on his back in the darkness, so, he rose and moved around on his hands and knees until he could find the main table and use that to prop himself up with. From there, he stood, looking around at his surroundings.

Everything was covered with a swath of moonlight and shadow, looking the opposite of what he'd remembered seeing earlier that day. Looking over at the clock, he found out why. Hours had passed since he'd last been conscious, apparently.

He called out for his sister but was met with silence, so he bent slowly to turn on the television, and shuffled through the house, using the glow of the tv screen to find his cell phone, close blinds and turn on the room's main lights. Stretching slowly, he spent a few minutes in thought, trying to make sense of what had happened and what was left to do about it now.

He wasn't going to call Sally Ann, just in case she was will _him._ She'd only lie about it afterward anyway, just as she'd done, he realized, the last time he'd asked about Hasil. James put together the dots as he began straightening up the mess the fight had left behind:

Had she _not_ actually been walking with a white boy, as Pastor King had said he'd seen, a white boy wouldn't have shown up at the house, all friendly-like, trying to make it into his good graces and "introduce" himself. Had she _not_ been talking to _him_ all along, James' face wouldn't feel like it'd been pushed into a wood chipper and she'd be home right now.

No, he decided. He'd wait for her to return, instead. And by the time she did, he'd have everything he needed, planned out and ready. Decision made, he turned off the lights of the house and clicked off the television before finding his keys on the kitchen counter. Singling out the correct key of the bunch, he came close to the door to lock it, but realized that he couldn't be sure if Sally Ann had managed to leave with her personal set of keys, so he left it unlocked.

There was enough room on either side of the internal portion of front door for James to sit and wait for her, couched between the edge of the door itself and the wall on which the coats were hanging. He pressed his back against the wall there, and slid, knees bending with the downward motion until he found the floor and crossed his legs in front of him. Removing his phone from his pocket, he stared at the digital clock, watching seconds tick by.

It was there that he sat, and waited.

* * *

 **SALLY ANN**

Climbing up the steps along the front of the building, Sally Ann could see the lights on within the houses next to her own. They were shielded to some degree by blinds and thin curtains, but the light still came through, as did the sound of televisions and talking; all worked together to let her know that life still existed therein, the people living in each going on with the night as if it were any other normal day. For this, she was glad, made happiest by the fact that the street was being lit by the normality of those lights instead of what would have been the unusual haze of ones atop a police car.

Sally Ann hadn't expect Hasil to do what he'd done earlier that day and she was angrier at him than she wanted to admit. She'd told him to stay away from her… to leave her alone. But he'd resisted and gone against her request, so she'd taken matters into her own hands and ran, intending to make such happen herself.

She only returned to the house because she knew it was unlikely he'd come back now, having found out just how volatile her brother could be when enraged. Further still, she'd needed the break from Hasil, no matter how endeared to him she felt, and how much that attachment had grown in his favor for his being willing to sacrifice his safety to save her from being slapped around by James.

In time, Sally Ann's thoughts about Hasil naturally progressed to thoughts of James and his health, and with that, she began shuffling around through her pockets, before, after a moment, remembering that in her haste, she'd forgotten to bother leaving with her key that afternoon. Peering through the windows of the dark house, she looked for anything familiar, hoping to see some sign of life.

Nothing. Nothing moved or made a sound, making her wonder if James was okay. Maybe he was knocked out and hadn't come to, yet? Or perhaps he'd gone looking for her? The quietness of the house both scared and welcomed her. For a moment, she was hesitant to enter at all.

Assuming the door would be locked, but hoping for a bit of fortune, she tried the doorknob, surprised when it gave way and turned completely. Frowning, she pushed opened the door, checking the living room on the other side of the house. The tv was a dark block of shiny glass, made bright by the moonlight coming through the nearby window. But, the couch was empty, as was the kitchen and the floor. Maybe James was in his room?

Entering, she crept forward, leaving the door open in case she'd have to run back out for any reason; in case it wasn't James that was in the house now, but an intruder.

But just as she made it through and looked over to the bedrooms, the door slammed shut behind her.

Startled, she jumped with a yelp, looking around to try and find the source of the sound. Turning on the main hall light, her hand pressed against her chest with relief when she saw James in the corner, sat beside the door. His left hand was on the door, fingers splayed open.

From his position, the light of the living room pressed against his downcast face, highlighting bruises and dried blood, the sight of which made Sally Ann want to cry. Even though the two had problems as they did, she still cared about him, and she couldn't bring herself to ever wish harm against someone she loved as much as her brother. Overwhelmed, the words began.

"Oh, no…" she breathed, looking at his face. He looked ahead and past her, his eyes not rising to meet her own. Worried, Sally Ann's face twisted with concern. Intending to cup his face and examine his wounds closer, her hands formed a slight U as she moved forward. She stopped, however, when, still not looking at her, he moved his hand and pointed towards her room.

Fear rose along the length of her spine then, and she prayed she'd not find anything that would make her regret coming home. Grisly pictures began to filter through her mind as she straightened slowly and turned, walking closer to the door. Her heart feared for Hasil and she wondered, then, if maybe she shouldn't have left.

Peeking in, she was again relieved, this time, to see the same room she'd known all of these years. Her bed was made and there no changes present that she could tell. The room looked exactly as she'd left it. But, all this did was make James' actions all the more curious. Gazing back, she gave her brother a long look before entering her bedroom and closing the door. Once inside, she pressed her back against it.

As a nervousness began to cloud Sally Ann's mind, her eyes scanned the room again quietly in an effort to find something she might have missed. Trying to concentrate, she slid over the door horizontally, until the curve of her back was purposely made uncomfortable by the door knob and she arched, pushing into it until it pressed hard against her skin.

The effect was sharp and searing, and she tried to focus on the pain.

She didn't know what she'd done to deserve such a response. Or… maybe she did? James had clearly been up and about before she'd come home, but she couldn't know for sure how long that'd been for. She'd found no calls on her phone, and there was no sight of Hasil on the way back home, so, what was so important about her bedroom that required she be immediately dismissed to the area?

Anxiety began to pulse inside of her stomach.

With James, a silent, eye-of-the-storm calm meant something much more sinister than did his anger.


	3. Season 1, Episode 9b

**A/N Warning:** Will try to finish Ch 2c tonight, but this and the next one gets a bit dark - dark enough for me to up its rating from T to M. The S1E9 preview seemed to call for it, and I wouldn't put it past the writers to do something like this.

Please watch the preview before reading at your own risk. It can be found here: watch?v=D9nCEQqYkEQ. Thank you.

* * *

 **JAMES**

As predicted, it didn't take long for Sally Ann to pass out for the night.

When she'd made it into the bedroom, James later did the same, picking up something from his bedroom's nightstand before going into the kitchen to make her a mug of hot cocoa from scratch. Warm milk, chocolate syrup, mini marshmallows.

He used the mortar and pestle in the cabinet to crush his sleeping pills into powder, and added them last. Just a light dosage this time. He'd ease her into a stronger one later.

For now, he held both his mug and hers with one hand, fingers looped through the handles of both. His free hand grabbed for a chair, which he brought to rest at the door. She answered his knock with a soft "Come in," which he did, sitting the chair in the corner. He then separated the mugs, handing the one with her name on the side to her. They'd had the matching set made years ago during one of their visits to the local carnival the town held annually.

Sally Ann drank the cocoa, and gave a light sigh as she pressed her back against her pillows. She looked hesitant to speak, but did so anyway, her eyes meeting his. "I'm so sorry… for what happened."

James looked away for a moment, sipping from his mug before nodding. He wanted to ask where she'd gone that night, but feared the response, so he stayed quiet until he finished his cocoa. Preferring thoughts that would keep him grounded, his mind raked through the plans he'd made earlier that night until Sally Ann finished her drink. Rising, he took her mug and she thanked him, her eyelids visibly heavy. With a yawn, she turned over, her legs sliding until she was in fetal position.

James reached her bedroom door and looked back at her, whispering to her before turning off the light and shutting the door. "Night, Baby Girl."

* * *

That night, James drove until he reached the nearest town with a 24-hour retail store. By the time the sun rose, he'd been there, to the local town library, and back home, having fit the doors with newer, stronger deadbolts.

When finished, he made sure he kept the only set of fresh keys for them.

Sally Ann's door could lock from the outside only now, and to anyone walking through the side yard, her window smelled of fresh paint, a coat of which made its way along the edge of the window's perimeter, sealing it tight from the outside.

When his sister rose in the morning, he'd found her phone and was already cooking breakfast. She took a deep breath, stretching with a yawn and rubbing her eyes as she made her way closer.

"Thank you for breakfast," she said. "This smells wonderful."

"Don't mention it," James answered lightly. "Naomi called while you were asleep. Asked if she could take your shifts today. Seems her check was a bit short and she's itching for a few more hours. I told her go for it." A confused look crossed Sally Ann's face, and wordlessly, her mouth began to move. Keeping her quiet, James cut her off before she could start to protest. "I know she's been sucha good friend lately, what with your hangin' out so much over there, that I didn't think you'd mind."

He sent a lopsided half-smile her way, knowing that the phone conversations he'd had that morning had in no way ended up at all as he'd claimed. Quite the opposite actually, as both conversations had been with both of Sally Ann's supervisors, and for all intents and purposes, James had essentially had Sally Ann terminated from her positions for the foreseeable future.

She'd been so willing to lie to him before, that now, she'd have to deal with the consequences.

"I don't. Just… didn't expect it, is all," she said, succumbing to James' will. She sat down at the kitchen table and bent over against the back of the chair to look into the living room. Despite yesterday's events, everything had been cleaned up and order restored. James had made sure of that, wanting his sister as relaxed as possible. The last thing she needed to worry about was broken glass and a house in disarray.

A full dose of medicine was given this time, half in her food and the other half in a small cup of her daily brew of morning coffee. She was out of it again by the time James dressed to go into town that morning.

He carried her to her bed, propping her up against her pillows gently, and going back to his bedroom for a moment, he came back with library books and a notepad in tow, pen in hand. If and when she eventually woke up again, Sally Ann would surely find out that she couldn't get out of the house. At least, not by normal means. She had no key to the front door, and before painting the windows, James had taken extra precautions to make certain those couldn't be opened with ease either.

He placed the library books he'd found for her on her bedside table, leaning over to write a short note. Planning to be away all day, he hoped the note and books he'd spent so much time looking for (as they were all written by her favorite authors), would comfort her in his absence. Placing the note on top of the stack of books, he read it again, briefly mouthing each word in the silence before ending the message with the small drawing of a heart, and leaving:

 _Don't try anything you know I'd make you regret.  
_

* * *

It was Monday morning now, with stores opening early again for the week, so James stopped by the pharmacy first to pick up an order, having called ahead to have his prescription of sleeping pills refilled. He'd started using them a few months before, back when _One Planet_ started providing work for the town's miners. He'd long ago grown accustomed to his insomnia, and it was a vicious cycle to endure, between the lack of sleep and the over-indulgence of alcohol he'd mixed together with it.

It'd been a habit he'd needed to break, so he tried sleeping pills – first the natural ones and then prescription ones, once he'd eased up on the drinking for a while, hoping to wean himself off slowly. The prescription had helped, as did the clearer, more sober mind, making it easier for him to make it in to work every morning. For the most part, his drinking days had now been shifted to weekends and the long stretches of dry days when the _One Planet_ staff knew ahead of time that there'd be no work available.

He found such to be the case today, in fact. Instead, a meeting with Breece, the newly appointed Community Liaison Officer, was in order, and required for all employees and independent contractors on the team. Attending as needed, he greeted Jake Murphy with a smile and sat down next to him, waiting for the room to fill.

Already weary, James sat back, crossing his arms with a sigh.  
Frankly, he'd have preferred a long day working in the sun to this.

* * *

 _Load up on guns, bring your friends  
It's fun to lose and to pretend_

 **THE AFTERMATH**

The meeting made James more angry than content. Another get together to _talk_ about how to get the Ferrells off of Shay Mountain and little action taken to move closer to that end. The only saving grace was the fact that enough people had stuck around, offering enough ideas to make the meeting more productive, and entertaining, than it started out being.

But by the end, all action still amounted to hours eating cookies and chips, and writing words on paper. There was also a clear divide on the issue within the minds of the townspeople, with some leaving throughout the meeting, largely dependent, it seemed, on how extreme the methods of extraction were that were being entertained as viable suggestions by those present. During the time spent, the fractured collective had grown to become even more of a problem than it'd been when expressed during the initial Shay Mountain hearing they'd held not long ago, to discuss the Farrell relocation.

James couldn't have hoped for a better ending to the meeting than Breece's offer to treat a group of them to drinks at the bar not far away, so he came with, happy he wasn't the designated driver for the night.

* * *

The bar's closing call came an hour or two later, consisting of the bartender yelling, "I need to close up, fellas!"

Ignoring him, James shrugged the warning off and turned, continuing his conversation. "Those Ferrell's been makin' us poor since m'daddy got stopped from mining. Thirty years ago."

"They act like they own that mountain an' can do whatever the hell they please," Jake said with a hearty laugh.

"Hell, one of 'em tried to screw my sister…"

"He didn't get her, did he?" asked Jake, clearly intrigued, and slightly repulsed.

"Nah… I stopped him. How ya think I got banged up?"

Breece, overhearing the group, chimed in then: "If we want jobs, we gotta get them off of there."

This made Jake laugh again, looking over towards Breece to remind him of one of the suggestions he'd made during the meeting earlier that day. "Well, I still say we blast 'em off!"

"You know how to make a bomb?" slurred another close friend sitting next to Jake, named Pat Kersey, with a laugh.

"Hell yeah! Instructions all over the internet!"

"Why don't we all stick to things that _don't_ involve breaking the law?" Breece countered, making the men at the bar snicker. He continued on, trying to encourage them. "Let's all get together again tomorrow. Come up with some good ideas."

"Only idea I got…" James said, sliding from his bar stool just long enough to finish his thought before his knees buckled, "...is to go up there, and kill 'em."

"You ain't fit to drive…" Breece began, dipping in an effort to try to catch James before he made it to the floor.

James pushed against Breece, a gravelly "Man, _get_ off me," escaping his lips.

"I'll get him home, Breece," Jake assured, catching James and holding fast onto his shoulder. He tugged him, and pushed forward with a, "C'mon."

"Fine," James answered, walking slowly toward the door of the bar. "But only after you take me to kill 'em."

"Thanks for the drinks. We'll get him home," Pat said towards Breece, following Jake and James out with a small frown.

Making their way outside, the group gathered together into the truck and on the way back, Jake took the long way home, wanting to give James and Pat as much time to sober up as possible. After a fallout like that, James seemed to need it before trying to get home.

Sat between Jake and Pat, James found himself pushed into Pat on the right, swayed by the sharp turn of Jake's truck. Settling back into the center, he put on his seat beat, figuring he'd need it. "Watch the road, boy," James chastised, looking over at Jake. He had to wonder which of the two of them had had more to drink. The thought so humored him, that he felt emboldened to continue, fueled by the fact that his drunkenness made it sound _that_ much less like a crazy idea. "Want me to drive?"

"Yeah, well we wouldn't be able to get three feet with _you_ behind the wheel. But, don't worry," Jake said, laughing. " _Some_ of us know how to hold our liquor!"

James smiled, shaking his head as Pat laughed along. As James' eyes scanned the streets, looking out for people he'd have to warn Jake _not_ to run over, his breath caught in his throat and he couldn't believe his luck. He pointed towards a shadowy figure, walking slowly beneath the street lights and yelled, "Hey… HEY! That's him! That's the Farrell that tried to screw my sister!"

"Are you sure?" asked Jake.

"That's him, damnit!"

"A'ight, hang on," Jake answered, turning the wheel. His right hand motioned to the back of the cab, calling to Pat. "Hey get them guns back there. We gon' get ourselves a Farrell!"

James growled with pleasure at the idea. "Yeah, Get his ***!"

The truck turned onto the next street, coming face to face with Hasil Farrell. James could recognize the look of him anywhere. Wife beater undershirt, hair and all. He was happy to see Jake nearly run him over already as the truck narrowly swerved to miss him. The three of men howled.

"Turn around, man!" James and Pat cried in unison. Jake revved up, making a u-turn and coming around the other way down the opposite street. The Farrell had stopped now, looking at the truck pass, and even at that distance, while that intoxicated, Jake thought the shot was clear enough to give it a try. He aimed his revolver out the window, the crack of a gunshot echoing as the glass of nearby Pontiac Grand Am shattered, hit by the stray bullet. He'd just missed Hasil, who'd now ducked down, hiding behind the car.

He ran as they drove by, cutting through yards of grass between buildings and following the sidewalk down the street perpendicular to them.

"What the hell are ya doin', Jake?" James asked, as he'd not actually expected any of the guns they'd retrieved to be used that night. Jake gave no response, however, and turned, still concentrating on thinking ahead fast enough to find a place to cut Hasil off at. Veins flowing with excitement, he shot off another bullet, trying to time it to the moment he'd see Hasil run past. Missed again.

The sound of the ricocheting bullet sent Hasil reeling forward, hands on the ground as he struggled to stand back up and keep up his momentum. He turned down another way, and hopped, using the speed of his run to hit the side wall with one foot and the top of a dumpster with the other, catapulting himself over a fence, just in time for another bullet to fly toward him and hit the dumpster, just missing his legs. Landing on his feet, Hasil began again, running with his head down until he heard the truck's tires screech, moving backward and turning after him once more.

He found a long stretch of street this time, lined with cars, and ran down the middle length of it, hoping to find some way out of the situation. The truck rounded the corner behind him to follow until they'd both reached a dead end. Hasil looked around, trying to find something… _anything_ he could use to leap over the fence with.

But it was no use. It was too high, he was too tired, and nothing was tall enough to help him now. He stopped, cursing beneath his breath with a huff, and angrily pushed against the fence in defeat. Sighing, his breath short, he turned, hearing one of the men cock his gun as the three exited the truck and came closer, each with their own weapon.

"Hey James!" Jake called, walking around to the side of the pickup. Removing something from the back, he tossed the items to James, who caught them with a nod, extending them to realize they were ties. Handing his gun to Pat, James reached out and caught them, pulling the edges of one taut before wrapping the material around his hand in a fist. Even with the alcohol in his system, his military training bled through and he was immediately aware of the best way to keep the prize specimen ahead of him, still. It'd been a long time since he'd last actively used it, but nevertheless, because of his training, he knew how to tie knots strong enough to hogtie a Farrell.

And then some.

Pat and Jake moved past James, taking swings at Hasil until he was face down against the gravel, twitching with each of their punches and kicks.

James let them go at him a bit longer before watching Hasil's body go limp. It didn't take long after, to tie him up, cover his eyes and slide him into the center seat of the cab. Pat sat in the rear of the truck as look out, as the three made their way to _One Planet_ to pick up his car, and onto his house to make use of its basement.

* * *

 _Hello darkness, my old friend  
I've come to talk with you again_

 **HASIL**

Hasil's dream was dark, suffocating, and filled with Sally Ann's screams.  
She'd drown within the liquid ink of her surroundings, surfacing only long enough to torture him again with the sound.  
And all the while, he was trapped, unable to help her.

* * *

He had only four senses working by the time they were through with him, and he'd decided to use none of them, too distraught to do anything but float along the waves of his pain, until they, and his captors, had taken him where they may.

Until that night, Hasil had searched high and low for Sally Ann, stopping by the gas station to ask if anyone knew whereabouts she'd gone. But they were little help, the employees there shunning him and running him off with threats of calling the police. He tried the store where they'd first met next, and was met with a friendly but hesitant face at Sally Ann's register. After a bit of coaxing, she'd looked around, before whispering that she hadn't heard from her in days. That her brother had called her to say Sally Ann wouldn't be back and asking her to cover her shifts.

Although thankful for the ability to glean something of worth from his inquiry, that was the last thing Hasil wanted to hear. He'd not be able to get into that house again without breaking in, but how could he do that when she'd already asked him to stay away? He didn't want to push her further away from him than she'd already become… but he'd heard what was going on to her in _that_ house, at the hands of her brother, and he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if anything happened to her.

He'd then spent the past few nights in the woods, hiding in the house she'd led him to, with hopes of her return, but days had passed and there was no sight of her. Hasil didn't know what to do then. He couldn't go to his family for pointers. Asa might've been able to help him, but he was already in enough hot water, leaving, much of the time, in an effort to find a way to stop the coal mining company from encroaching in on Ferrell territory. And there was no one he knew in town that could help besides Butch, who surely wanted nothing to do with him after Hasil shook him down for money and the last of the wine he'd given him.

Hasil's last option was the Sheriff who'd released him from jail the night he'd been tazed. It'd go against all he'd learned from his family to do so, but that was the mountain. He'd have to find Sally Ann in her world, and the only other way he could think of that her people would try to find a missing person was with the police's help. He'd watched when they took away one of his kin, Tice, who'd become the mountain's latest missing person, so maybe they'd know how to get to Sally Ann. Hasil hoped they'd be able to find her under better circumstances than those by which they'd found Tice.

Traveling at night for added safety, he'd been on his way to the police station when James and his friends found him, chasing him down like a dog until they'd pinned him against a fence he'd not have been able to scale in time to flee, anyway. He'd paced then, back and forth like a caged animal, until one aimed a shotgun at him, and the others descended, taking him down and binding his limbs. The ringing in his ears blocked out the sounds of their cackling.

Soon, too, did the relief of the warm, still void that greeted him when he finally gave in and lost consciousness.

When he awoke, he was in the cab of the truck, his temples throbbing amidst his blindfolded darkness. Moving his shoulders, he could tell that his arms were behind him, held tight with ties of some sort.

He couldn't see anything on the way, but he could taste the iron of the thick blood that'd made its way up his throat, and feel the steady throbs of pain points along his body where they'd left imprints of their fists that he'd bet were darker than the left behind marks of his tattoos. His heartbeat thumped at the areas where their feet found him and hard kicks had knocked the wind out of him fast.

There was only the sound of air in his ears – the air of their breathing, and that of a gust blowing coldly against the front of his body until it created the strangest of juxtaposed sensations, the feeling leading to his shoulders, which were now over-warm and pressed against the shoulders of two of his captors.

He'd been tied up and kidnapped.

And of the three of his strangers, the only one he'd recognized was the one who'd brought him the most pain. He'd come back to town looking for that stranger's sister, and had found her brother's trouble instead. Now, he understood, why Sally Ann's eyes had shone so bright with fear, and her words had lashed out so sharply at him when she'd told him to stay away the last day they'd seen each other.

* * *

They pulled him out of the truck once they'd reached their destination. He could hear a door creak open and followed their lead, listening to the one in front of him descend a set of stairs. The one below called out a "Let 'im go!" which caused the man holding Hasil's arm to pull him roughly towards him, and into the doorway, pushing him down the stairs.

Hasil held his breath, holding his head close to his shoulders, his chin tight to his chest on the way down. He didn't breathe again until the man below caught him, laughing.

He gasped and released a low croak of pain, trying to move what little of his body he could to see if anything had been sprained or, worse yet, broken. Gritting his teeth, he stumbled when the man who'd caught him pulled him up and had him sit in a nearby chair.

More steps followed, clunking down the stairs toward the two, but no one in the room removed Hasil's blindfold. The three spoke to each other instead.

"Soo…. This one Hasil Farrell, ya say?" the first man asked.

"Mmhm," the second man answered smoothly. Hasil recognized this voice as James' when he continued, saying, "He's th'one tryin' to give it to m'sister. Pin her 'side a tree, like she's one of those animals they claim are women, up there on the mountain."

The statement made Hasil's hair stand on end.

"Could always make sure he ain't fit to give it t'no one no more, animal or no," the last man answered with a laugh as wretched and debased as his suggestion.

"Oh, I intend to," James answered. "He'll be good as dead by the time we're through."

Hasil swallowed against the blood coating his throat and stayed quiet, a shudder, cold as ice traveling down his back. There was nothing he could do besides sit and listen to them brainstorm through the ways they wanted to hurt him, their reasons shifting from James wanting payback for losing his fight against Hasil and wanting to protect his sister, to the fact that the other two wanted to send a message to the Farrells, warning them of what was to come for the rest of Hasil's kin if they, as the two put it, "didn't stop squatting on land that wasn't theirs."

One offered the idea of torture, shuffling around heavy objects already present in the room. Listening to them, Hasil tried his best not to pass out again. He'd already handled the loss of two fingers for Sally Ann, and he'd willingly lose the remaining 8, as well as all of his toes if it came to it, just to keep her.

But he was slightly relieved when they eventually decided to just take shots at him. First with their fists and later with their guns, since they'd wasted so many bullets on him during the chase to catch him.

"Ain't got time enough for the rest of that," said one. "Got th'wife and kids upstairs an' I don't need the screaming givin' 'em nightmares. This place is a lil' soundproof, but not near enough for _that._ "

So the first two went at him, making him feel as if his entire torso had become the foundation for a mural they'd created with little more than finger paints, leaving splotches of red, black, blue and purple behind. James, however, went for the face and Hasil's head. He pressed on until he was tired, the final punch sending Hasil careening to the side, until he fell over, still attached to the chair. Wanting to curl up into a ball, he sat there, his breathing shallow and dense with pain as the men talked and laughed, drinking.

James picked the chair up again, setting Hasil upright, and removing his blindfold. He arched, getting ready for his next swing, this time wanting Hasil to see it coming, but when Hasil winced, and pulled away, James stopped, laughing.

"Ain't so tough now, are ya?"

Hasil looked at him, or at least tried to, through bleary, unfocused eyes. He could see James shake his head, taking another drink. He searched the room for rope, and, finding it, pulled Hasil up to stand on the chair. Moving behind him, he motioned for Jake, who came over and helped to untie his hands.

Each took a separate hand into their own, tying them to separate ropes, the other ends of which they threw through the rafters and tied to the side at an angle. Hasil was too tired and in pain to stop them or move, so he waited, not wanting to find out what more they had in store for him, but unable to do anything about it.

His arms widened at full length to his sides when they pulled him and he stood at full height on the chair. Watching them, he saw them make sure the ropes were slack enough for their needs, before James came over, taking off Hasil's shoes and kicking the chair out from under his feet.

The ropes tugged at Hasil's arms, raising them above his head by the wrists and becoming taut as the rest of his body lowered, his feet barely touching the ground. The tips of his toes tapped at the floor, trying to find some steady hold against the ground, but doing so only made the ropes pull at arms that were already bruised and hurting. Fearing eventual dislocated shoulders, he stopped trying long enough to feel the pain that caused, and found himself stuck, as if on a tight rope, teetering precariously between the two areas of pain; between holding on to balance and falling.

"That should hold 'im for the night. Be good an' tired tomorrow," James said, reaching up to pull the blindfold back down to rest on Hasil's forehead.  
With it came another piece of material, this one tied around to act as a gag inside of his mouth.

Closing his eyes, Hasil's mind went elsewhere as he breathed, and he wondered if this is what the first night in the Box felt like, up on the mountain. He'd visited Big Foster on his first night in it, and seen the days pass by during the 6 months that Asa had been confined to it. He wondered, if given the chance to, which one he, himself, would rather choose to live through. Little to no food and utter solitude versus a night of persistent pain and the company of people who deserved such torture much more than he did…

But Hasil preferred the latter. Because, the latter gave him the chance to see Sally Ann again.  
And for him, that was enough.

He held that thought close to his heart until it shielded him, fortifying his resilience, through and through, and listened to the men begin to speak again.

"Gotta go home for a bit and check on a few things," he heard James mutter. "I'll be back in the morning. I trust you'll spend th'night taking out your frustrations on 'im, too, yeah?"

"Too right," answered someone.

"Be safe," said the other, as James' footsteps climbed the stairs to the sound of his chuckling. When Hasil opened his eyes, he could see that the man had moved behind Hasil, reaching for his blindfold. He attached his name to him in his memory then, and looked up, storing the details of his face for future reference. This one was Pat. His eyes turned to meet the other man's, who was seated next to him now.

"Oh, and Jake?" James called, stopping.

"Yeah?" asked Jake's voice. Hasil kept his eyes level, with Jake's even after James' words had come down the stairs to the three and a twisted smile had eased across Jake's lips. Darkness descended with the blindfold, which was pulled down over Hasil's eyes as James finished delivering his instructions, and left.

"Keep 'im conscious."

* * *

"You bleed for me, I'll bleed for you"  
 _We are the monsters, u_ _nderneath your bed_  
 _Yeah, believe what you read_

 **SALLY ANN**

Sally Ann's day had been an eventful one filled with sorrowful wails and ragged, bloody fingernails.

The unfortunate result of a sudden and unexpected bout of claustrophobia, she hoped she'd be able to hide the latter from her brother. She'd cleaned up after herself at the window sill, removing the signs of her attempt to escape. That'd been her second choice after trying to break the knob off the front door, taking a hair pin and then a frantic butter knife to both tumblers.

After failing, she'd searched every inch of the house for her cell phone but came up dry, and as James had long ago cut back on the number of bills they had coming into the house, there wasn't a backup landline she could use either. In the end, she was exhausted, and, by the time she'd caught sight of the time on the microwave that evening, she'd been too agitated to worry about cooking dinner, so she retreated to her bedroom to pretend to be asleep, wanting to actually do so in the process, if she could.

James came home a short while later with what sounded like multiple bags in his hands and from her bedroom, it didn't take long before Sally Ann's nose, sensitive from a day of being too stressed to eat, could already smell the dinner he'd brought with him as the scent slipped through beneath her door. She closed her eyes, pressing her face into her pillow and shifting deeper beneath her blankets, neither wanting to indulge in the comforts of food, nor humor James. Doing so felt like she was condoning his actions and quietly expressing her approval for the lengths to which he'd gone to trap her away in this little house. It felt like she was telling him that she, too, could see the method to his madness.

But regardless, she couldn't help herself from feeling a pang of relief to hear at the sound of her brother's return, and when he called out to her, she appeared in the doorway of the kitchen to help put away the groceries and set the table for dinner.

James, Sally Ann found, had seemingly bought enough food to stock up their refrigerator for the next few weeks. She was tempted to ask why, but knowing better, stayed quiet, letting the smell of dinner push away the worry that nagged at her.

When James had cheerfully called her into the kitchen to eat with him, there was a slight slur to his words. Sally Ann couldn't tell if she should take that to be a good sign or a foreboding one, but to keep her spirits high, she leaned toward the former, expecting the worse and hoping for the best.

"Hey Baby girl, how your day been?" James asked, as if he didn't know.

"Fine..." she responded, playing along as if he _hadn't_ just left her inside of his own, sordid rendition of a Halloween-time Nightmare House. "Spent some time readin' the books you left me. They were real nice. I appreciate your gettin' 'em for me."

"More than welcome," James said, giving a genuine smile at her words. "Wanted to do somethin' nice since you don't get much time off an' you've been awfully tired lately. Thought'cha might like somethin' to eat tonight, too so I got a few of your favorite things." He handed Sally Ann a plate of food and they sat down to their usual evening meal ritual.

Sally Ann picked at her food, watching James with small glances. She was hungry, but something still didn't feel right about all of this. She wanted to ask what the occasion was and why he'd been so happy, but the most she could muster was pushing her food around on the plate, thankful that he didn't seem to mind the distinct lack of speech present at table. It was the audible growl of her stomach that made his eyes rise from his plate to hers, and then up to her face. She took a quick bite of food as he spoke, "You don't like it?"

"Yes sir, I do. I'm just a bit… thirsty, I think," Sally Ann answered with a swallow, her mind scrambling for the easy excuse.

"Oh yeah!" James said, leaving the table. He reached for a glass of water on the counter, leaning to give it to her. Watching her, he sat back down with his own, and mimicked her, taking a drink when she did. "Sorry about that," he said slowly. "Mind must've been elsewhere."

"Thank you," she nodded, her face frowning in thought. She rolled her tongue around in her mouth, noticing the feeling of the slight grit of something not yet dissolved in the water, pressing into her taste buds. Having read her share of murder mysteries, it didn't take long for her to put two and two together and come to the conclusion that her recent fits of sleep hadn't been natural.

Bringing another fork of food to her mouth, she looked around the kitchen, scanning the empty grocery bags, before stopping at the sight of a smaller, blue and white paper bag that resembled the ones her brother's medication from the pharmacy always came in. Chewing slowly, she looked down, trying to remain calm despite the fact that her ears were beginning warm to a burn.

Sally Ann had been too preoccupied to notice that James had been watching her eyes from his position opposite her at the table. He knew, when her eyes stopped and the expression on her face changed, that she'd seen the bag past his shoulder, on the counter. And looking down now to watch her hands fidget, he could see her nails, too, dried blood still nestled beneath some of the more torn ones.

Because James had become the parent and man of the household at such a young age, he was well versed in many of his sister's expressions and actions. He'd been there when she'd rebelled against their mother, and again, of course, when she'd done the same to him back in high school. He'd learned her tricks and had managed to calm the smolder of her anger by being gentler than their mother had. Even drunk, he could hold his anger back better than she could and over time, he and Sally Ann had come to amicable terms toward each other. It was him who'd taken care of the household and started her college fund, determined to put off his own studies until he'd saved enough to ensure she could pursue her own without fear of debt. Things had changed financially since he'd lost his job, but he'd tried when he could, to do right by her.

And he'd continue to do so, even if it meant having to lock her away for her own safety.

Still gazing down, James couldn't stop the small look of disappointment from crossing his face. He'd told her not to try anything, but from the look of her fingers, he assumed he'd be able to find the half circles of her left behind fingernails somewhere near the front and back doors, or perhaps on the sill of a window lining the house.

When Sally Ann's hands moved beneath the table, James looked at her, their eyes meeting. He knew that she knew that he'd been watching her. He could tell by the way she slowly began to slide her chair from the table, and, as in sync with each other as they were, went to her room without his having to prompt her.

He followed after her a short time after, the rest of her water and four pairs of metal cuffs in hand.

* * *

By now, Sally Ann was shackled to the edges of her bed.

James, had called to her while putting away her food, telling her to change and get ready for bed. She'd done so, her hands quivering so badly with fright that she'd had a time trying to brush her teeth, let alone change into her pajamas. Back in her bedroom, she'd found him sitting on the chair in the corner, from which he handed her the remainder of her water from dinner. Thinking it preferable to sleep than stay awake much longer, she downed it quickly, handing him back the glass before getting into bed. "Don't struggle," he'd said.

It was then that James introduced her to the cuffs he'd brought with him.

"Nice job on those fingers of yours, sweetheart," James had said, shaking his head. "I told you not to try anything… an' now that I've apparently got your sanity t'worry 'bout, suppose we'll have to take extreme measures." Defiant, Sally Ann refused to look at him, but put up no fight when he reached for her hands, cuffing them to the outer ends of her headboard. "Good girl. Thank you for not fightin' me. I didn't wanna have to do this, but… I can't have you hurtin' yourself. I'll take 'em off in time, but you hafta promise not to try to escape again."

"I have to go to work," Sally Ann said coldly.

"Not anymore."

When Sally Ann's eyes flashed at him, he held up his hands as if surrendering. "Hey, now… calm down. It's just vacation time. Ran it past your supervisors already. They cleared ya after I told 'em the Doc says you're comin' down with somethin' and it could be serious. That you're gonna lay low for a while til you stop feeling so under the weather. No harm, no foul, right?"

Sally Ann only stared at him, too focused on the feeling of her blood pressure rising within her like the insides of a wrathful volcano. So… he'd thought of everything, hadn't he? James continued to speak, looking around to point at her window and doors as he referenced them.

"If you _do_ somehow get loose, as ya know, the doors are locked and the windows closed. They have alarms on 'em now, to alert me of any tampering. And your keys don't work anymore either. Ya can't even leave this room unless I allow it, anymore."

At her wit's end, Sally Ann spoke, releasing the one question she wanted an answer for most:  
"Why are you doing this?"

Visibly startled, James thought a moment before sliding the corner chair closer to her. He sat down, then, leaning forward to cup her cheek in his hand. His eyebrows were furrowed, his features displaying a look of genuine confusion. "I'm saving you from the monsters, Baby Girl."

"…What?"

"'member how I saved you when we were kids? How I used to rescue you from all the monsters?" James asked, waiting until Sally Ann, silent but staring, nodded slowly. "You used to hug me tight," he continued. "Usedta tell me I was the best big brother in all th'world. That I could protect you from anything…"

Sally Ann blinked in disbelief. An assortment of emotions began to trickle through her, making her both take comfort in the soft feeling of his hand on her cheek, and become repulsed by it. Torn in half by these feelings, and fighting off the tears the mentioned memories had started to elicit, she sighed, refusing to outwardly acknowledge his attempt at a tender moment; but unfazed and nostalgic, he carried on. He rose and moved the chair away as he did so, continuing to reveal small bits and pieces about a person Sally Ann could only assume was Hasil.

"I promised I would. That I'd protect you always… and I plan to keep that promise. Got the latest one bothering us locked up tight right now, actually. Won't ever put you in danger or hurt me again, an' couldn't get to ya now, no matter how hard he tries."

Sally Ann froze.

Considering how few people Sally Ann interacted with on a personal level, he couldn't be speaking of anyone else _but_ Hasil. She knew, deep down, that Hasil had been traveling down the mountain more often, specifically with the intention of seeing her; that these visits had increased dramatically... especially just before they'd finally become one that time in the cabin.

She also knew he was probably much safer _on_ the mountain than off, now that he had a target on his back and her brother knew what he looked like. That was a new piece to the puzzle that hadn't been in place before, and Sally Ann feared that it'd make all the difference in the world when it came to Hasil's survival.

A low whimper escaped within the room, accompanied by the release a soft peal of sadness. It took a moment for Sally Ann to realize that she was the source of the sound, making her do her best to quiet down, lest her reaction make James angry at her. But, instead, the soft sniffle of sobs only made James turn around at her doorways' threshold and shake his head, cooing at her from afar.

"I know, Baby Girl… I know how scary it is. But, don't worry. I didn't let the monsters get t'ya before and I won't let 'im getcha now either." He winked with a smile, as if trying to cheer her up. "And hey, the monsters never lasted very long 'round me anyhow, did they?"

Tears began to glide down Sally Ann's cheeks as he gently closed her door. The last of his words hit her ears and assaulted her heart with a painful blow before he left her to flounder within the subsequent heaviness of a deafening silence.

"Don't worry. This one won't live much longer, either."

* * *

 **Song lyrics credit:** Nirvana, "Smells like Teen Spirit" ; Simon  & Garfunkel (Nouela), "Sound of Silence" ; Matchbook Romance, "Monsters"  
 **Response to reviews -** Can't say I like James much either, but he's an interesting one to write for. I hope I answered where Hasil was for you, and helped feed the hunger until the next episodes. Hope to finish this tonight or tomorrow. Thank you again for all of your support, reviews, favorites and follows! :)

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the canon characters. Everything pre-owned belongs to its owner(s). No copyright infringement intended.**


	4. Season 1, Episode 9c

**A/N:** Same warning as last chapter. Was happy to get this done before S01E09 was shown. :)  
And since we got our Sasil fix, consider this story semi-complete until we hit our next Sasil dry spell. Enjoy!

* * *

 _Cold, empty bed, springs hard as lead  
Pains in my head, feel like old Ned  
What did I do to be so black and blue?_

 **SALLY ANN**

From Sally Ann's position against the bed, she could only see the ceiling. And with that, the most she could do was blink and swallow the sore, dry throat she'd had for the past few hours.

Between sleep and consciousness, the day passed by through the window out the corner of her eye. First dark, then bright, dimming to and fro with the movement of clouds.

She wondered where her James was, supposing at first that he'd gone to _One Planet_ to look for work that morning, but she'd not seen him show up since. Drowsy as she was, Sally Ann couldn't remember what day of the week it'd be today, nor if more days had passed by than the single one she could only vaguely recall living through. She'd been in bed for a while now. Long enough for her limbs and the joints therein to grow stiff from lack of movement.

But still, she hoped it had only been one day.  
Were it more, she'd have to come up with a reason for her friends for why she'd not made it to work. And worst yet, what could she possibly tell Hasil?

That is, if he'd want to ever see her again.

The last time she'd had sight of him was during the fight between him and her brother, the next room over from her bedroom. She closed her eyes, the tremble of fright from that day rolling through her body. Hasil hurt James, and James, Hasil… and all she could do was watch from the corner. Shouting or calling either man's name had done no good, and she didn't dare touch the two, who, full of adrenaline at the time, were moving too quickly to get a hold of, anyway.

Instead, she left. And ran, as far as her legs would carry her.

She could hear Hasil yelling for her from a distance after, but his voice was little more than a whisper on the wind then; so faint that Sally Ann thought she'd imagined it, and kept going.

Feeling too toxic to be around anyone, all she wanted was solitude, so she ran until she made it to the city line, and once there, simply turned around and walked back home, which led to her current situation. She wondered again, what she'd done to deserve it, varied memories of the past sliding across her mind with the same ease of the clouds floating outside. In and out of her consciousness they came – every lie she'd ever told, ever thing she'd ever done in rebellion, every broken promise she'd ever made, and every kiss she'd placed on Hasil's lips.

The last thoughts comforted her, feeling like an anchor holding her to the shore of reality.  
Even as she drifted, she knew she'd never regret her time with Hasil.

* * *

Before Sally Ann could open her eyes, she could hear James' voice reading the familiar words of one of her favorite poems. Each word connected with her as he spoke them, greeting her like a best friend she'd lost touch with.

Eyelids fluttering, she blinked, finding herself sitting up in bed. James was in the corner, his head down as he continued to read. Sally Ann used the time to around the room, noting she was no longer locked to the bed and that there was a tray of uneaten food on her nightstand. Her eyes finally came to rest on his face now. She looked him over, noting how well his face was healing.

James finished the poem and looked up at her, meeting her eyes with a smile. He closed the book, and slid his seat closer to her, his voice soft. "Why hello, sleepy head. How are you feeling?"

Sally Ann decided to be honest and open with her brother today. Perhaps doing so would end this situation sooner than later and she'd be able to reason with him until he would let her leave the house. She moved her arms, trying to stretch and rotate her joints slowly. "My body hurts," she said with a grimace.

"Yeah, I figured as much. Figure you're gonna need at least one more good night's rest to get rid of that. I can give you somethin' for pain…"

Sally Ann immediately shook her head, disliking the idea of receiving more medication. She kept her voice soft, not wanting to offend him, "I think… I've had enough medication already."

James nodded silently and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "I'm sorry about that. But, I told you not to try anything." Frowning, he reached for the food on her nightstand. The item he offered her was a halved sandwich, its pieces put together until they created a triangle, nestled snuggly within plastic of the same shape.

"Here," James continued, breaking the silence. "It's unopened. I promise I didn't put anything in it, so you'll be th'first to open it."

Sally Ann stared at the sandwich before shaking her head. She didn't want to eat. She wanted freedom. She wanted to know what she'd missed – all that'd happened out there in the real world during the time that she'd been shut up in her bedroom, unable to leave. She wanted to know what time it was, and what day of the week. She wanted to see Hasil again.

"Don't fight me, Sally Ann. You hafta eat. I don't want to have to hurt you, but I will if you make me cuz I'm not 'bout to let you starve."

Sally Ann sighed. It wasn't often that James used her birth name, but when he did so, it was never for a good reason. Cooperating, being the easier choice than resistance, won out again, and Sally Ann reached for the sandwich, popping open the pack slowly and taking a small bite.

"Thank you," James said, sincerely grateful. He opened her can of soda for her, making a show of it on purpose to make amends with her, indicating that the drink, too, had no medication in it. "This won't last much longer, Baby girl. You'll be safe again, soon."

The words triggered a memory for Sally Ann – one of upset and sobbing, but she couldn't remember why. Careful to breach the topic gently, she took another bite of her food, asking, "What are you saving me from?"

Examining her face, James sat silent for a moment, before answering, his words short. "Hasil."

Changing tactics, Sally Ann asked from the point of view of James' health, instead. Her eyes widened as a slow questioned escaped her lips. "You… went up the mountain? Were you careful? Are you alright?"

"No, I didn't go up the mountain. The mountain came to me."

James' words were cryptic, yes, but Sally Ann knew what they meant, regardless. It didn't make sense for Hasil to come after James, but it _did_ make sense that Hasil had been looking for _her_ and James found him. Thinking for such a consistent and solid amount of time made the haze of Sally Ann's confusion begin to dissipate, allowing the details of her memory to flood back to her then.

Hasil was the monster.

"You've killed him?" she asked, purposely wanting to catch James off guard, but his subsequent pause made her fingers tremble.

Eventually, he shook his head.

"….but… you're _going_ to?"

"Yep," James answered simply, moving to sit in his usual location near the bedroom door. He watched her from the distance, gauging her reaction as Sally Ann put her sandwich to the side, suddenly losing her appetite. When tears began to drip from her chin, he picked up the book of poetry and, finding the page he'd stopped at, began reading aloud again.

Sally Ann sat, sniffling until her downcast eyes were red and puffy from the tears. Past praying silently, she knew she couldn't do anything to stop what was coming for Hasil. She could try to escape again, daring to renew her brother's anger toward her, but she didn't know where they were keeping Hasil, and, knowing her brother as she did, Sally Ann had a feeling James would rather die than tell the police his location.

Going to the mountain was a choice, but she didn't know any of the mountainfolk but Hasil, and after hearing about one of Blackburg's police officers dying by decapitation, having met the wrong end of a bear trap, that seemed less and less like a good idea, too.

She had no time, and she was already so tired again.

But, grasping for some semblance of hope, she realized that that may not actually be the case. She had very little information, but what she did know what that Hasil was still alive and that James was still here. She still had _some_ time, and she'd make the most of it. If she could get next door, she could find a phone. And from there, more options would open up for her.

To do anything at all, however, she'd need energy, and the fastest, most painless way to gather some was to continue to cooperate and rest. So, leaning back into her pillows, Sally Ann did so, closing her eyes, and accepting her fate, if only for the moment.

James continued to read to her until her breathing eased and softened.

* * *

 **JAMES**

After calling Pat, James left the house and drove over, heading down to the basement.

Alone with Hasil now, he came closer to him, looking over his body with a small smile. The knife sheathed at his side caught his eye and he remembered the moment that Hasil had chosen to hold that very blade against his throat, threatening him with death if James ever touched Sally Ann again.

James wanted to laugh now. To think… a stranger… no, a FARRELL threatening him for laying hands on his own sister. His own flesh and blood. He thought the concept ludicrous. Hasil apparently wasn't aware of how much more dangerous it'd be for _him_ if _he_ ever touched Sally Ann.

James took Hasil's knife then, examining the sharp blade closely. "Wakey wakey," he taunted, nudging Hasil's body with the handle of the knife. Turning the blade over in his hand, he took the sharp end this time, bringing the tip against Hasil's face and down along the curve of his cheek and chin. Adjusting his hand, he lifted Hasil's chin with the knife's edge after, watching his body move with little prompting, as if malleable. Hasil made no motions on his own, however, and James couldn't tell if it was for fear of being hurt by the blade, or because he was dead. To be honest, though, James didn't care either way.

Engrossed, James let the knife travel down his neck and onto his chest. Daring himself to cross the line, he pressed the tip in harder against Hasil's skin and pulled the knife down, watching the line he'd drawn bead up red and begin to drip with blood.

James rose and stepped back at the sound of the door to the basement opening, turning to greet Jake with a nod when he entered the room and handed him a beer.

"Pat'll be down in a minute," he said, and hummed his approval as the two turned to stare at their masterpiece.

* * *

 **BREECE**

After the poor end to the night before, Breece spent his morning calling around to make sure that everyone had made it home safely. When he neared the end of his list and came across Pat Kersey, he was surprised when Pat invited him over, claiming he had a surprise and that he, James and Jake had all come up with new idea for how to finally get the Ferrells off Shay Mountain.

"This one may actually work, too," he'd said. Taking into consideration Jake's recent ideas, both controversial and explosive, not to mention illegal, Breece couldn't have guessed what "this could work" equated to, if he tried. Biding his time, he drove over to the house, and knocked on the door. Pat's wife opened it with a smile, the Kersey children walking up behind her and past Breece, through the door.

"Mornin' Mr. Dobbs!" they called, heading to the car. Greeting them, Breece gave a "Mornin', ma'am," smiling at their mother, who moved to the side to allow him in.

"Hey, good mornin' Breece! C'mon in. Don't mind us, we're just finishing up breakfast and on the way out. Pat'll be with ya in a minute."

"Thanks so much," Breece answered, closing the door after her. When Pat appeared in the hall, he had a handful of water bottles in his arms.

"Hey Breece, thanks for comin'. Now that the house is empty, we can head on down to th'basement t sort out th'surprise. Want somethin' to drink?" asked Pat, his chin pointing to the bottles in his arms.

Breece chose the nearest, and smiled in thanks, before following the man down to the basement. Below the house was a fairly large room, set up mainly as a place for tool storage. They had a light on toward the back, but the front of the room, near the stairs, was already sparsely lit by rays of morning sunshine filtering through the upper windows. "Hey Breece!" came the voices from below, making Breece called out a response greeting at the same men he'd seen yesterday; they were, this time, equipped with larger grins than he'd seen them have in a very long time.

When he looked around and his eyes fell on the reason why, his world felt like it shifted beneath him as he looked at what was clearly a tortured Farrell, hanging from the rafters of Pat's basement. In such a position, Breece expected some movement on the Farrell's part, if not to try to keep his toes on the floor, then to stop arms from being so tightly held above and away from his body.

When he noticed that neither movement was present, Breece went ballistic.

* * *

 **THE BASEMENT**

Jake was in the process of cutting Hasil down when Breece made it to the bottom of the basement staircase. When down, the body fell like a rag doll and he had to hold Hasil up. James moved a chair close and Jake shoved Hasil down onto it hard, moving then to pull off his gag and blindfold.

"Look, Breece, we got us a Ferrell!" Jake cheered, turning to face Breece and grabbing ham-fistedly for Hasil's hair and pulling his head up. His face was bloody, and with closer inspection, even within that dim sunlight filtering through the windows, Breece could see that he looked like death warmed over. A groaning mix of blood and sweat, his face had gashes in various places - from his hairline down to his left eye and cheek. They'd done him over good during the night.

Even seated, Hasil was as still as a wax statue and Breece couldn't tell if he was breathing or just dying. Eyes wide, he came closer, the sound of his voice as he responded to the three men making clear that he'd started to verge on insanity. "What… the… Guys, are you INSANE?! What're you gonna do with 'im?"

"Kill 'im," James responded, his tone short. He'd grown tired of people being so protective of Hasil.

"You CAN'T kill 'im," Breece protested.

"Why not?"

Breece blinked before looking around the room. All three men looked at him as if they were honestly waiting for an answer. His eyebrows rose, a look of confusion crossing his face. "Is this real life, or am I dreamin' right now?"

"Oh, it's definitely real," replied James. He flexed his fingers, showing Breece the bruises on his hands. "Got the sore knuckles to prove it, too."

Taking a breath, a very stunned Breece took a moment to close his eyes and try to regain his composure. "Just… do me a favor and walk me through all this. H-….how did you find this one?"

Jake moved, sitting down in a seat not far from Hasil and putting his feet up on a nearby bench. Crossing his arms, he explained. "We were on th'way home from th'bar last night. Caught whiff of this guy a ways down the street and chased 'im a bit. Scaled a fence or two, but we eventually got 'im." With a smile, he reached over to tap Hasil on the cheek. "Th'opportunity was just too good to pass up, I'm afraid."

Breece remembered their contributions at the _One Planet_ meeting the day before, as well as the short talk they'd had at the bar shortly after. He should have known it would all boil over and lead to something like this, but who could have guessed that it'd have happened so quickly? Breece assumed it'd all been a lot of hot air. After all, "getting a Farrell" would mean going up the mountain and past those with police badges, only those with death wishes did that.

Normal, run-of-the-mill Blackburg citizens didn't do that.

"Yeah, well, ya shoulda left him be, cuz you can't do nothin' but let 'im go now," Breece said. "Ya certainly can't kill the guy."

Unfazed, James stepped in front of Breece, locking eyes with the man. "I can and I will. Got a good reason why I shouldn't?"

"Because I'll turn you all in myself."

"Waiiit, a minute, here. Wasn't it _you_ yesterday, who said that we needed a way to get them Farrells off th'mountain?" James asked, coming closer and pointing back at Hasil. "Where _here's_ your way. Either do somethin' with it, or _we_ will."

"Yeah," Pat added. "Bet "Grimy" wouldn't care much, any how. You two seem awfully buddy, buddy. Bet you can convince her to see the light, right?"

"…and then maybe _we_ can convince you t'see the error of your ways? Correct that thinkin' of yours, eh?" Jake called with a grin.

Breece wasn't willing to take the bait though, his integrity unshaken. "I said no," he said, and there was no smile to be found on his face. He was serious.

"So how's this 'sposed to go, then?" James asked, his displeasure already made clear by the distinctive movement of his jaw.

"Worst case scenario?" Breece answered, turning to James. "You're gonna let him go, he runs back up top where he's gotta buncha crazies, and kills us all!"

James blinked. "Does the best case scenario include my torturing him to death?"

"Only if you wanna be th'first in line for a dirt nap when his folks retaliate."

"Well they ain't come lookin' for 'im yet."

"Doesn't mean that they _won't._ And when they _do_ , they're gonna wanna even the score, which we do _not_ want _or_ need."

"You give 'em a helluva lotta credit, there, Breece. Last I heard, they ain't totin' no guns no way." Jake motioned towards Hasil before raising his own gun. "All this one had on 'im was a knife. How much damage they gonna do bringin' knives to our gun fight?"

Breece could feel his blood pressure rising by the second as he looked around at the faces of the three men he used to know better as friends. At that moment, though, he couldn't tell what they were past hung over and stupid.

Shaking his head, he let out an exasperated sigh. "You talk too much, an' 'bout things it's obvious you know nothin' 'bout. Out here messin' around, putting people's lives in danger with no clue how big the clan is, how many famil _ies_ , yes, _plural,_ there are in it. _Not_ family. _Families._ As in their OWN ARMY," Breece continued, reaching up to rub his temples nervously. "An' that ain't countin' what's on the _other_ mountains. You haven't a _clue_ what hell they could bring on our town."

James laughed, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe his ears. "Superstition got you too, huh?"

"More like stone cold reality," Breece answered, his eyes flashing to look at them all. Despite his anger at them, he was still willing to plead with them, hoping they'd see the error of their ways and work with him to try and rectify the situation. "Guys, c'mon… seriously."

"Bout them guns… well, I heard stories 'bout them usin' 'em in the past. Can… we really be sure that they don't have any now?" Pat asked, looking around at the group, clearly the most uncertain of the three.

In addition to listening to Breece's concerns, Pat's dreams the night before had been nightmares of a still alive Farrell haunting him as if dead. Waking him up to cold sweats, they'd bothered him so much that he'd come down more than once to give Hasil water and make sure he was still breathing. After the night he'd had, he wasn't above believing in superstitions. "What if they do, an' they find out this one's gone? I mean, we got families to think about. Can we really put it past 'em not to come down here and mow down the town lookin' for 'im?"

"I'd like to think that they would," came Hasil's response, his chiming in so unexpected that it made all the men in the room turn and stare. Despite the beatings that veered toward torture, those were the first and only words he'd spoken to the group.

James narrowed his eyes and walked closer to Hasil, kneeling down until their eyes were level. His voice came out of him as a low, gravely whisper, and he wished, at that moment, that he was alone with Hasil again so he could carry out the full brunt of his anger without fear of being held back by bleeding hearts. So consumed in bitterness, James could already see Hasil's final moments flicker across his eyes.

He'd be the one to do the honors, and when he did, he'd kill him with his own knife.

"If they come within' a foot of me… the last thing you'll see is my blowing every single one of their brains out. And the last dead dog I'll leave on the street," James threatened, his finger moving to push hard against Hasil's temple, "will be you."

"but'cha see, I'm what they call a bit of an… outcast among outcasts. One'ah those that stands out from the rest." Hasil gave a wet smile, his teeth bloody. "Guess ya could say I'm special like that."

"And that means?"

"Ain't no one comin' for me."

"He's lyin'" Breece countered quickly. He shook not only his head, but rose a quivering hand that echoed the movement meaning _no_ as his words tumbled from his mouth in a flurry. "Naw… I ain't buyin' whatcha sellin' an' I sure as hell ain't getting mixed up in this nonsense. You guys do whatcha want, but I ain't bout t'bring the wrath of that mountain down on _my_ head." Breece began walking up the stairs as he spoke, sounding frantic. "An' I ain't gonna give no Ferrell a reason to put my head on a pike, either."

"Then go," James answered quietly, his voice so still, it sent a chill through the room. Sneering, he wiped his nose and stood, turning around. "Dunno why we bothered to tell ya no way, yer highness. You're too good for us lil' guys now anyway, right?" He walked forward, blowing his chest out in a show of intimidation.

Looking around, Breece could tell that none of the men, Pat included, seemed convinced enough to stop. His jaw moved, and irritated, he bit the inside of his cheek until it bled. "Fine. I'm goin' for the authorities, then."

"Good," James answered. He met Breece's eyes again, the hatred displayed making Breece back away slowly from the group now. "By th'time they get here, won't be nothin' left to see, but th'remains of a deer carcass."

At the sound of James' words, everyone turned back to Hasil, as if preparing.

Everyone, but Breece, who exited the room and slammed the door shut behind him.

* * *

 _When you are near, they laugh and sneer  
Set you aside and you're denied  
What did I do to be so black and blue?_

 **HASIL**

Hasil weighed his options as he looked around the room. Escape was the only one he'd accept, but finding out how to do so was the problem. Things were made considerably better by the fact that he was now seated instead of held up as he'd been throughout the evening, but there was still the issue of getting up the stairs and out the house.

Taking a deep breath, he went over the possibilities quickly, revisiting the ideas that had come to him through the night:

He could use his chair as a whole, or by its legs, individually, as he was angry enough with the group to consider impaling at least one of them against the wall. One of the men still had Hasil's knife, as well, which would come in handy when he had it in his hands again. Moving his shoulders, he felt that they were sore from being pulled, but they were in working condition, along with the rest of his body, and for now, that'd do him just fine. He'd not have to do much to free his hands, either - bringing his arms low from behind his back, he'd only have to crouch and step backwards through them to bring them forward.

And the room had its assortment of viable options, too. There were large saws in one corner, and shelves lining the walls, covered in what looked like boxes and canisters of paint. On the table were the objects he'd heard shuffled around the night before, when the men were discussing their plans and the possibilities of torture.

Hasil's eyes rose, once again taking time to remember the details of each man's face. He wished he could use each of the instruments on the three of them, paying them back for the night they'd put him through, but he hadn't come to Blackburg to waste time like that. He'd come for one purpose and one purpose only.

Hasil intended to see his plans through to the end, and though he'd be lenient with James for Sally Ann's sake, if it came down to it, he'd kill every single one of his captors to do so, if he had to.

Somehow, and sometime soon on this day, he'd be free of this place.

And when done, he'd find Sally Ann… and take her home.

* * *

Song Lyric Credit: Thomas Waller, "Black and Blue"  
Note to Zeejack: I agree! What's also awful is that they deleted the Sasil scenes they were supposed to have in episodes 07/08. Hope they tie up their storyline better because they've left so many holes now. Hope you liked the Sasil we got tonight on the show, at least!  
 **Disclaimer: I don't own the canon characters. Everything pre-owned belongs to its owner(s). No copyright infringement intended.**


	5. Season 2, Episode 8

"I feel an ultimatum coming on," Sally Ann said, her voice as low as the dim light streaming into the room. Outside the window she'd been gazing through, the sun had just began to dip down below the horizon. So ended Sally Ann's "Day Two without Hasil."

Hasil's hand was on the doorknob then, and he'd just entered the room, startled by the presence of Sally Ann, and the way her voice exited the shadows.

"A-...An ulta-what?" he asked, bewildered.

Sally Ann's jaw ticked as she set her teeth, gritting them together at the mere sound of his voice. It was his question that began to make her blood boil. She'd lost the patience she used to have, and didn't bother to explain.

"Choose. Now. It's them or us, Hasil."

Hasil stood there, understanding now. It didn't take him long to process the statement, because he knew, coming in, that he'd be in trouble upon arriving home. But he was stuck between a rock and hard place. It was bad enough that he'd missed out on his money from his last fight, but having his goals knocked off course by Houghton had been, for Hasil, the straw that broke the camel's back. He couldn't be in two places at once, nor could he help two groups of people at once. Just like that night on the mountain, when, in the face of invading forces, Sally Ann had asked him to choose between her and his family, he'd made the mistake of choosing wrong. There were enough of his family on the mountain for them to be fine, but there was only one Sally Ann, and no one in her corner to protect her. Dread filled his stomach, then.

"Sally Ann, I'm so sorry…."

"But you knew, Hasil. You KNEW," Sally Ann interrupted, knocking the breath out of him cold with her tone. "Did I not just tell you, last we spoke, 'bout my fearing this exact thing? That a day would pass where you'd not come through that door, followed by another, and another?"

"Hey, hey... hey!" Hasil pleaded, moving to block Sally Ann's way. No matter which way she turned, there he was, hands splayed out and hesitant, his eyebrows coming together in a dark cloud of worry. When it rained, it did know how to pour, he thought. _But that's always been the case for me, hasn't it?_ came the dark thought, thick with the reminder of all things past, from his parents (or lack thereof), to the fiery ball of light and anger in front of him, just destined, he knew, to set the entire apartment aflame. Would he ever be capable of doing anything right?

"N-Now Sally Ann," came his hurried stutter. "Come on, now, ah didn't mean nothin' by it. Now ya' know that. I'd never let nothin' pull me away from you."

"Easier said than done, apparently," answered Sally Ann, as she moved, trying to twist herself out of his way; with him being as fast on his feet as he'd proven to be when facing off in the ring, she was far from successful, so she decided to hurt him with her words, instead. "This is the second time this has happened. There won't be a third."

"But… the law man stopped me, and started talkin' bout going up the mountain fer somethin' important. 'Bout savin' one o'my kin… and when I got up there, they wouldn't let me leave. I just…" Hasil stopped, rubbing his face with trepidation. "I just… ah was just tryin' to help m'family…"

"Your family is right here, Hasil. And _we_ are supposed to be what you consider important now. If you can't see that... if your actions can't _reflect_ that... at _all_ times, and not just when it's convenient for you, then maybe..." Her heart beat loudly in her ears as her face fell flat, and she stared at him for a moment before turning, picking up her jacket and leaving.

Hasil didn't stop her, either, made fearful by the look in her eyes, and how haunted they'd become, as if slipping into, and becoming one with the darkness. He feared that, at best, if he touched her then, she'd end it then and there, and at worst, she'd crack and crumble between his fingers, having already been made into something delicate, fragile, and fractured, by the heavy weight of his past abandonment. So he let her go, watching the outline of her body become smaller, the further she went; but even then, he couldn't help himself from following her to the door, and calling out to her, hoping she'd be able to hear him despite his voice catching in his throat.

But Sally Ann's mind was long gone now, encompassed within the depths of her frustrated silence and the pain that came with biting back her tongue. While mulling over whether that hurt her more than finishing her statement would have, her heart continued in her ears and, flat as her abdomen was, she could have sworn she could feel something out of the ordinary. Not anxiety, or worry, but... slight movement, as if writhing awake, disturbed by all that was happening. But that was nonsense, she thought. After all, she wasn't really that far along, was she? Frowning, Sally Ann's free hand moved to tenderly caress her stomach as she continued forward, thoughts drowning out the sound of Hasil's calling after her.

Back at the apartment, Sally Ann hadn't dared allow her mouth to form the words that would finish her last sentence to Hasil. In part, because she felt that if she did, not only would it be the end of their fairytale life (however flawed and dingy, it was) but of hers as well, and with her, the baby that she and Hasil, in the midst of their whirlwind romance, had created out of love, lust, obsession and everything sweetly tasted, in between.

But as the day darkened to night, she found herself down the street from her brother's house, and nearly penniless for the moment, after having spent so much on securing that apartment, she threw away the option of staying at a hotel, or returning to town, instead entertaining the idea of knocking on that door, and seeing her brother's face again.

In that moment, she was torn with indecision, realizing that she missed James; much more than she'd before realized, and it caused a strange emotion surge through her. _That baby's a Farrell_ , Hasil had told her, but in truth, she now knew that that was only half correct. That baby, boy or girl, was half of her, too, and would be born into two families that were supposed to, through that baby, be made whole, into one.

But she wasn't so sure that'd ever be able to happen with the Farrells, the lot of which hadn't seem to take a liking to her, last time they'd all met. Looking up at the door to James' house, Sally Ann felt a sardonic smirk cross her face. _So much for first impressions._ Worst yet, she found she wasn't so sure she wanted to be accepted by the Farrells anyway. Could they... could Hasil, even, truly understand where she was coming from, or all she'd have to give up, and was previously willing to give up, f or a man, she was discovering, she couldn't actually depend on being there for her, through thick and thin?

 _But then again, past James, who had ever been that for me, anyway?_ she wondered. And thinking back on her past actions, she felt a small wave of shame and obligation pass over her, as she considered her brother's perspective in the situation, hearing some of the angry words he'd tossed her way before she'd run away - _my little sister, unwed, poor, and pregnant, and with a Farrell child, at that.. after all I've done for you. You couldn't just leave well enough alone, could you?_

It was no wonder that he'd angrily muttered, "No good deed go unpunished," at her.

And it was then that Sally Ann felt she'd began to understand the pull Hasil's family had on him - the love, the worry for their well being, and unspoken sense of obligation. Maybe it wasn't just a mountain folk phenomenon. Maybe that was what normal was for a family, and Sally Ann, much to her surprise, was coming closer to feeling it herself. Maybe there really was something to this "family ties" thing.

Sally Ann knew what James would ask of her if she returned; that she'd not only lose Hasil, but all else that they'd created in the short time they'd known each other. _And_ , she thought, her fingers touching her stomach again, _if I make that decision, it can never be taken back, nor ever undone._

Nevertheless, blood was thicker than water, and although it was a lesson Hasil was obviously struggling with, Sally Ann found comfort in learning for herself. She understood now - there might be many out there like Hasil, but no one could ever replace family, and just as Hasil wanted Sally Ann to come to terms with that about his relatives, he'd just have to do the same for her. Even if it meant, from now on, his being lower on her totem pole of importance.

Sally Ann's foot found the first step of the house's porch, then, but caught off guard by the sudden flicker and brightness of the house's front porch light, her heartbeat filled her ears again, and her hand found her stomach once more. Startled, both by the light, and by her newly acquired maternal instincts, her mind returned to the last thing she'd left unsaid to Hasil.

Whispering her words back to her, it began to finish the sentence, but much to Sally Ann's dismay, the ending had changed from "maybe we really are better off apart," to one of ultimate finality, hinting at a sinister fate that included not only her relationship with Hasil, but the life of their unborn baby, as well; it was something she had an inkling James would wholeheartedly agree with.

 _Maybe I really am better off alone,_ came its echo.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Nothing special - just a short one based on the preview for tonight's episode (Season 2, Episode 8). Tried to get this done on time and tried to provide updates on the other stories, but took them down (apologies for that). Been dealing with irl stuff as of late, but am working on getting back into writing, though, so I'll update the other stories soon.

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the canon characters. Everything pre-owned belongs to its owner(s). No copyright infringement intended.**


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